


Only Child

by itshysterekal



Series: Don't Call Me T'hy'la [1]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Child Abuse, F/M, Gen, No Sam, Slow Burn, Tarsus IV, a little fluff, aaos, au au, au tarsus iv, farms are unexpected but grand, frank is jim's uncle, in case tarsus iv isn't explicit enough - lots of trauma and bad coping, it gets worse before it gets better but it does get better, kirk/spock in later parts of the series, mostly angst, self-destructive behaviors, series has happy ending, teen drug abuse, war "games", winona kirk is actually a great mum, zipper narration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-02-21 23:05:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 27
Words: 70,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13153902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itshysterekal/pseuds/itshysterekal
Summary: Children are the future. Their potential is limitless and uncertain. As such, aptitude tests can't measure a child's true and complete value to society, so Kodos the Executioner requires a more multi-faceted form of evaluation. Young Jim Kirk refuses to accept that his reality has become kill or be killed, or that he may possibly be stuck in a no-win scenario.Or, in which Tarsus IV was a lot less peaceful than half the population walking into an anti-matter chamber and a lot more like the Hunger Games.Part two is fully drafted and part three is in progress.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> One of the tags i used was happy ending and i should very much like to emphasize that it is for the series as a whole and not for part one. Part one is more open-ended sadness than a cliffhanger is why i'm posting it all at once. There'll be a little wait on part two, but i plan to post it all at once like i did part oen.
> 
> Another of the tags i used was "zipper narration" and i'd like to explain what i mean by that. Picture an unzipped zipper. One side is the length of Jim's stay on Tarsus IV, and the other side of the zipper starts when Jim returns to Earth. When you zip the two sides together, the line of teeth goes left/right/left/right/etc. So this story is structured in that each chapter switches from past (Tarsus IV) to present (Earth) (or vice versa), but outside of that, it is a linear narrative.
> 
> If that makes any sense at all. It might once you get going. Basically, if you read all the odd numbered chapters and then all the even numbered, it would be linear but i like them zippered because i get to the fluff sooner. (Also sometimes adjacent past/present chapters relate.) There is no fluff on Tarsus IV and i'm not a fan of constant, unending streams of dreary. Please try to hang on until the fluff, friends. I promise it's in there. I just didn't want to gloss over what Jim goes through or make it seem easy.
> 
> I was originally going to draft all of it before i started posting because WIPs hurt me on a soul-deep level, but i've been writing this in a vaccuum for almost eight months and feedback fuels me. So if you have thoughts, please comment or message. :D

James Tiberius Kirk excelled at hurting people- or at least he liked to think so. He had a knack for determining exactly what would most get under their skin and into their blood. Kirk was also intelligent by all metrics, though many would say he wasn’t very smart. Kirk was never quite sure if he liked hurting people or not, but it usually got him what he needed even if it was just some temporary satisfaction in the short term.

Today had been a perfect example of that short term satisfaction. Jim hadn’t known when he’d stolen his uncle’s car that morning that he was going to send it off a cliff, he’d only known he wanted it to disappear and give Asshole something to fret about. As soon as he turned onto that road and saw the end of it, Jim knew exactly what to do. For a moment, he thought he might go over with it, but Kirk was a survivor. No matter how bad it got, he always got back up. He did hesitate this time, though, and barely jumped in time to make up for his forward momentum. Last minute plans had a habit of doing that to him. 

Last minute plans also had consequences that he didn’t always think all the way through, like that vein currently trying to push its way free of Asshole’s forehead (Jim smirked to himself at the phrase) and what it would mean if his mom wasn’t with him. Jim had nearly gone off a cliff after jumping from a moving vehicle, so the police had no questions about his bruises. As usual. It was 2345, and they were an enlightened society so no one hit kids anymore, right? 

Jim glared sullenly at the table in the detention room to avoid looking at that vein anymore. Fear was useless and he wasn’t about to worry when his mother was there too- something Asshole was probably regretting. Jim was good at hurting people. He was good at getting under their skin and into their blood. Anyone who hurt him got boiled. 

A year later he was free of Asshole, but suddenly his problems had gotten bigger. Contrary to the intent, he enjoyed his mother’s idea of punishment. Tarsus IV was the first place that had ever felt like home to Jim, even if he was living with strangers. The Leightons were his host family and their two sons Anthony Jr. and Thomas had no idea why Kirk had been sent to them. They were just happy for a third brother even if he seemed to win every game and pass them in every subject in school. Tony struggled with math and numbers. He didn’t make it past the first round. 

Governor Kodos was not an intimidating man, or at least Jim had not thought so to begin with. He seemed kind and bright, but underneath that outer layer it had become clear that he was also an Asshole. The famine was tearing the planet apart, sure, but Kodos was exterminating it. He claimed it was for peace, claimed that “survival of the fittest” wasn’t the only rule they should live by and all Kirk heard was that Kodos wanted them to pretend he wasn’t playing God. 

When Tony and some of the other kids were taken from school for special classes, Jim knew something was wrong. It felt like his spine was being shot through with a phaser. Delivering the news to Mx. and Mrs. Leighton that night confirmed it. Tony didn’t come home that night and his name was on a heartless list everyone could access from their PADDs along with a message of hope and survival. Almost half the colony had been taken from their homes, jobs, and schools that day- based on aptitude tests- aptitude tests! Kirk was boiling, hard. 

The next day, the schools were locked down. Tables were brought into the gym where the kids were corralled, and PADDs were confiscated. It wasn’t until Governor Kodos himself walked in with a small army worth of guards that Jim knew what was happening: the population needed to be smaller. 

_I know you’re all very scared-_ Jim wasn’t; he was boiling too hard for fear or anything else to survive- _This is a scary situation. There isn’t enough food for everyone, and that is a fact we all have to face. Unfortunately, despite all our technology and advancement, we still cannot best nature. Food supplies will be rationed and limited. Even with extreme rationing, we can’t afford to feed everyone. I know it seems heartless and will bring little comfort to you children, but this colony will survive and thrive even if you are not here to see it. None of you will starve to death. I promise you this. Children such as yourselves are our future and we will not throw you away._

Jim felt sick. Thomas kept trying to catch his eye, but Jim couldn’t look away from the monster he was going to boil. Tony was his brother and he didn’t need to hear Kodos confirm it to know that he had been taken away because of his poor marks on tests. These weren’t random selections. 

_You are the best and brightest children on this colony and I am so sorry, but there are still too many of you. You are all equally fit to learn and grow and become productive members of our society, so there is no reliable way to determine who will most benefit from rationing._ Jim could only marvel at the way he spoke- as if this were normal and almost pleasant, calling genocide “rationing.” _You are all being sorted into four groups. You will not be in a group with your family and you will be given an opportunity to submit the names of any of your friends so that we can make an effort not to put them in your group either. This is because you will be competing for your survival against the members of your group and we cannot ask you to consider purposely outliving your loved ones. There will be four groups of one hundred and each must be reduced to a tenth._

The Governor was reduced to gesturing at a secured PADD while his words about submitting names were drowned out by shouting that was equal parts rage and terror. They were the “best and brightest.” They could do math. They were expected to “purposely outlive” (which was obviously a nice way of saying _murder_ ) 360 of their classmates if they wanted to go on living. Kirk excelled at hurting people, but he was not about to kill anyone for any reason. He also wasn’t willing to die. 

Clenching his jaw, Kirk decided to avoid his moral quandaries until he absolutely had to face them and made his way through the crowd to the PADD that was bolted to a lectern. Part of him wanted to make sure he was in Thomas’ group so that he could protect his chosen brother, but he didn’t want to increase the number of people he’d have to get through to keep him alive. 

There was one student who’d beaten him to the PADD: a Vulcan. From what little Kirk knew of them, it wasn’t surprising. They were made of ice and didn’t have emotions. This guy was someone he’d have to watch out for. He looked up as Jim approached and finished whatever he was doing before stepping back. “Hm,” was all he said as he observed Jim in a way that made him feel squirmy. 

“Can I help you with something?” Jim asked in an annoyed tone. 

“No, I was simply wondering at the haste with which you have accepted this situation.” 

“Well, it’s not like it’s going to change, so if you don’t mind moving I’m going to make sure there’s zero chance of me having to kill my brother.” 

It didn’t matter that Thomas wasn’t legally or biologically his brother. In the past few months, he had become too important to Jim to be called anything less. He and Tony had accepted Jim and treated him with all of their tricks and secrets, let him join all of their outings and games. No one had done that for him before, so it was all too easy for his lonely thirteen year old heart to fill up with them and their parents. 

Jim didn’t know what he expected- a lecture on the illogical nature of familial attachments, maybe- but all the Vulcan did was incline his head politely and walk away. So Jim entered his identification number into the box and added Thomas’ name and then went through a mental list of his classmates and wished he knew the Vulcan’s name. Didn’t they have about three times the strength of a human? Jim shuddered at the thought of that guy literally crushing all of his competition. It would be good not to be in that guy’s group. 

Jim quickly scanned the crowd for Thomas. Finally, he spotted him and waited until their eyes met. He gave Thomas a nod but didn’t smile. Jim hadn’t yet given in to the fear that he knew was hiding somewhere, but he couldn’t smile either. Once again making his way through the crowd, Jim met his brother at the edge of the crowd and they leaned against the wall together. 

“They can’t do this,” Thomas said. Jim didn’t point out the obvious, that they obviously could and were, because it wasn’t the kind of statement that required response. “They already took my brother, why are they doing this?” 

Jim pressed his lips together ever so slightly and tried to hide the spike of pain that went through him. No matter how he felt, he wasn’t Thomas’ brother and he shouldn’t expect the other boy to think of him that way. “I put you on my list,” was all he could think to reply. 

“I’m not doing this. I’m not making a list. I’m not doing this, Jim.” 

Jim gripped Thomas’ shoulder in an effort to comfort him. He didn’t know if it worked. “I don’t think they’re going to give us an option.” 

Thomas pulled his arm free, looking angry. It didn’t work then. “They can’t do this!” 

“Look, we’ll get through it. We just have to not die.” 

“Oh, is that all? Because I’m pretty sure we have to not die while almost everyone else does!” 

“Thomas, we have to be calm about this.” 

“No, Jim. _We_ don’t have to be anything. I’m not going to just- Maybe if you’d just lost a brother, you’d- Jim!” 

But Jim was walking away. He didn’t trust himself and that comment had done him in. There was an actual, physical pain in his chest that he didn’t know what to do about. When Asshole yelled or hit him, it just sort of rolled off his back, but this was eating away at his core. How could someone he loved hurt him more than anyone else ever had? 

Kirk woke without having realized he’d fallen asleep. His spine was hurting all the way up to where it joined his skull. He’d slept sitting on the hard floor curled sideways to lean against the wall. He glanced around the room aimlessly. He wasn’t ready to talk to Thomas again, but he couldn’t just sit and do nothing. Half the room was asleep and the other half was looking worried. And then there was one face staring at him from the wall perpendicular to his. He frowned and the Vulcan tilted his head slightly in curiosity. So Jim got up and stumbled embarrassingly as his joints protested and blood rushed back to his feet and he did his best to look angry to make up for it. If he didn’t know the thing about Vulcans not having emotion, he would have sworn this one was smiling at little in amusement at his clumsiness. 

His back punched the wall as Jim determinedly slid down it to sit next to the Vulcan. “Why are you watching me?” Jim was on edge and a confrontation was a bad idea, but he had to do something to stay sane. 

“You were the first to submit your list and you have wasted no time in denial. In fact, you have gotten a decent amount of sleep which implies practicality. You are conserving your strength for the upcoming trial, which is extremely logical.” 

“So, what? You’re sizing up the competition? Aren’t Vulcans way stronger than humans anyway?” 

Kirk wasn’t sure if he was getting used to the odd way the Vulcan seemed to observe instead of look or if it was just getting less creepy. “Strength will not win these games. It will be stamina, ingenuity, and calm that prevail.” 

“So, you’re what? Trying to see how clever I am?” 

The Vulcan stared at him again. “Does this worry you?” 

“I don’t like people spying on me. Especially when they’re trying to figure out how to kill me.” 

“I am not trying to kill you. I find you fascinating.” 

“Well, if you- What?” Jim gave him an incredulous look. He was fascinating because he wasn’t falling apart? “That is the creepiest thing anyone has ever said to me.” 

“The situation we are in is reprehensible and beyond reason. The standard human response is first denial and then bargaining. You have done neither of these and have accepted the situation as fact.” 

“Okay, well I’m still a standard human, not some freak, so you should get your facts checked, Vulcan.” 

The Vulcan actually flinched at Kirk’s harsh words and he couldn’t suppress a small smirk of victory. The Vulcan couldn’t let it rest though. “I did not imply you were inhuman. I merely noted that your reaction to this situation is beyond the ordinary.” 

“My reaction is none of your business.” 

“I did not say that it was.” 

“So stop watching me.” 

“Perhaps it is you who should stop watching me.” 

There was something light, almost amused in the Vulcan’s eye but Kirk knew that was impossible. He was probably just projecting. “Look, just… mind your own business.” 

“I will comply regardless, but perhaps you will first allow me to ask a personal query?” 

Kirk grimaced as he started to get up. His muscles were still killing him from his horrible and unintentional sleeping position. “What is your ‘personal query’?” 

“How do you intend to ensure your survival in these trials?” 

Jim stiffened. He hadn’t even asked himself that yet, and here was this Vulcan who didn’t know him at all, gutting him to the core with the exact thing that would plague Jim if he was willing to think about it. “I thought you were going to mind your own business?” 

The Vulcan inclined his head. “I cannot answer it myself either.” 

Jim nodded awkwardly in response and walked away. He stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, feeling sick. He was thinking about it now. The answer was that, at the moment, he wasn’t going to do anything. He couldn’t possibly kill anyone, not even to save his own life. Kirk could hurt, not kill. Even then, he could only hurt people who deserved it. He wasn’t like Asshole. He couldn’t just do nothing, though. That was essentially suicide. Jim clenched his jaw. The only sure way to survive without killing was to somehow stop this all from happening. 

Against his better judgment, he scanned the room and found Thomas right where he’d left him the day before. 

“Go away, Kirk.” 

It should’ve stung to hear his last name in the mouth of someone he considered a brother, but Jim was too focused to feel anything except urgency and a drive to accomplish. “We’re not doing this, any of us. We’re going to break out of here, okay?” At least two nearby faces turned when he spoke but Thomas’ did not. “Thomas? Did you hear me? We’re going to break out of the school and we’re not doing this. We’re going to get everyone out.” 

“Everyone,” Thomas echoed hollowly and Jim nodded once. He took a breath and was about to start discussing the exits when he was interrupted. “What about my brother? Are we going to get him out too?” 

“Thomas!” Jim snapped. “I know I’m not your brother, but you’ve got me and you’ve got your parents. If you think they’re just going to come after us kids-“

Finally, his brother woke up. “My parents?” 

“Yes, Flick,” he said, the nickname easily rolling off his tongue. “We’ve got to get out of here and make sure they’re okay. No one else is dying on this colony.” 

More nearby faces were paying attention and a murmur had started. Jim felt his spirits rise, and a full feeling was blooming inside him. He was nauseated with hope and it was wonderful. “How are we going to get out?” asked a girl to Jim’s right. “I can hack locks, but there are going to be guards.” 

Jim beamed at her. “That’s perfect.” 

“Guards are not perfect, Jim.” 

“No, the lock picking. We’re not going out those doors, but there have to be other ways out, right?” 

An older kid stepped forward. “There’s a window that opens up by the cliff. They keep it locked and barred, but if we can find leverage, that’ll get the bars off and then some rope… It’s only about twenty meters.” 

“Okay, which classroom is it in?” 

The kid winced. “It’s in the medical office. The actual office, not just the room.” 

Jim nodded. “Okay, well we’ve got the talented lock pick- what’s your name?” 

“Laurel,” she said and Jim ignored the light blush on her cheeks. 

“We’ve got Laurel, so she can get us in. Who can get us some rope?” 

“There’s rope ladders in the gym closet. It’s not even locked.” 

Jim clapped his hands together in glee. He turned to the kid who knew about the window. “You’re going to take Laurel here to the med office and work on that window while I get the ropes. We need to make sure everyone gets the plan and we’ll sneak out in groups of four once the ladder’s in place.” 

“And where do you expect to go once everyone is at the base of the cliff?” asked a voice that Jim was learning to hate. “There is open desert in all directions and we will all be highly visible against the flat terrain.” 

“Look, the first thing we need to do is get out of here, we can worry about that bridge when we-“

“There are no bridges in the desert.” 

“Okay, listen here, you pointy-eared-“

“I am merely pointing out that the plan is incomplete. If we get out and are recaptured, we will be in a worse situation than before. Security will increase, making escape more difficult, and there will be some kind of punishment involved.” 

“So what’s your plan, Vulcan?” 

Jim was angry and it only infuriated him more to see how calm this pointy-eared bastard was in the face of it. “I hacked the PADD and sent a distress signal.” 

“Governor Kodos already sent a distress signal,” a little kid said. He looked like he couldn’t be older than six or seven. “Starfleet is sending aid, but it will take six months. There isn’t enough food.” 

“I sent my distress signal to the Vulcan Science Academy,” the Vulcan replied and Kirk rolled his eyes. 

“Please, don’t Vulcans live for this kind of logic? Not enough food for everyone for six months, so just kill the ones that would’ve died anyway?” 

“You are correct in that this is a logical solution, but I do not believe most Vulcans would initiate such a course of action before exhausting all others.” 

Jim stared at him, still angry, but at least now his anger was mostly at Kodos. So this was the governor. He knew exactly how long they had, and that was why he had chosen so many specific numbers. He’d done the math. Jim wondered if he’d calculated for balanced nourishment or if he’d factored in the bare minimum they’d need to survive. If there was only enough for half of them but it was at full nourishment… Well, Jim could skip every other meal if it meant someone else didn’t have to die. It would only be six months, right? 

“So what do you expect the Vulcans to do?” Jim asked a bit more evenly. 

“I expect they will contact Starfleet to let them know of the murders and then nearby planets to see if any refugees can be taken or aid sent.” 

“And how many of us are going to die before that goes through?” 

“Less than ninety percent, I assume.” 

Jim swallowed at that. He knew that was the amount of kids Kodos expected to die during these trials, but hearing it said out loud, as a percentage, killed him. Figuratively. “One percent is already one too many,” Jim said quietly. 

“Then I suggest we figure out the rest of your plan.” 

He nodded grimly. “We’ll be visible as soon as we head into the desert, and there’s no food or water out there anyway, so… Obviously we should just… not head into the desert.” Jim lit up. “Who knows where the cliff goes? It has to lead somewhere.” 

“Actually, um…” Jim turned to his right. There was a girl who’d started to speak and seemed to chicken out when people looked at her. He thought he recognized her from his physics class. She was sixteen, so what was she so afraid of? She cleared her throat nervously and continued. “I take archaeology with Dr. Mundt and there’s a historic site, um, an underground city, though most of it’s caved in. There is a water source, though. And I remember hearing that chime that sometimes comes from the government building, so it’s near the food stores if we can figure out how to break in.” 

“How far is it from the cliff?” 

“It’s actually in the cliff, but I’m not sure where. We took a shuttlecraft.” 

Jim looked to the Vulcan who met his eyes immediately and raised an eyebrow as if to say he could find no flaw in this logic. “So that’s it, then. We’ll sneak everyone out in small groups and follow the cliff until we get to this underground city. It gets us to safety, at least. No one has to die.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You are going to be tempted to believe/hope the Vulcan Jim meets on Tarsus IV is Spock. I recommend not doing that as it will only lead to disappointment.


	2. Chapter 2

Jim stared blankly at his mother. Being back on Earth should provide him a sense of relief or joy or anything, but all he felt was empty. Most would consider fourteen too young an age, but Jim was fairly certain he was broken beyond repair. He wasn’t the kind of broken that cried and lamented and broke down. He wasn’t the kind of broken that heard voices and made scenes in public. No, he was broken in the most basic definition of the word. He didn’t work. His emotions didn’t work, his body didn’t work, and he wasn’t even sure his voice worked anymore. Thankfully, Tarsus IV had been good for something and people assumed he was broken and didn’t force him to pretend he wasn’t. 

His mother’s response was to wrap him in a hug that he didn’t really return. He closed his eyes and breathed in the smell of her soap, but it didn’t make him feel safe. She was the one who’d sent him there, but he didn’t blame her and it had nothing to do with why he didn’t feel safe. It was just a fact that Jim would never feel safe again. 

“Do you want to lie down?” she asked him when she finally pulled away. Silently, he thanked her for not telling him how glad she was he was alive, to see him and hold him, or that she’d been so scared. He couldn’t handle that. “I was thinking, when you’re ready, we could try homeschooling.” 

Jim just shrugged. He wasn’t a fan of the idea of hiding away. Hiding doesn’t work, a voice whispered in the back of his mind. Of course, being around other kids again didn’t sound appealing either- especially not in a school, especially not anywhere they could be trapped and held until it was _their turn_. 

Her hand was soft in his and he didn’t pull away even though he was too old to hold his mother’s hand. He didn’t really care what anyone thought of or about him anymore. They started to walk away from the landing area and she didn’t make him speak. “They want you to see someone. Talk to someone, I mean. A professional. I don’t disagree, but I won’t force you. Definitely not today.” He didn’t tell her they’d already grilled him and interviewed him endlessly, making him sign papers that he would never tell anyone (not even his own mother) who didn’t have security clearance what had really happened on that planet. “I think for today we can just have dinner as a family, maybe a holovid, and rest.” 

That did sound nice except for the “as a family” part. Jim had a horrible feeling that included Asshole. His uncle had lived with them for as long as Jim could remember to support his widowed sister, and secretly hit her son- especially when she was away on missions. Jim had never been afraid of him before, but now… If people Jim had trusted, who had been kind and loved him, if those people could turn on him… what could someone do to him who hated him like Asshole did? 

Reality, as usual, was even more disturbing. Asshole was nice to him, gentle, like he was just as afraid as everyone else that Jim would shatter at one wrong word. Well, the joke was on everyone because he was already shattered. He didn’t feel like he would ever be okay again. He didn’t think he was suicidal. He just had no plans for the future. There was nothing he wanted to do except stop feeling numb. 

“It’s your favorite,” his mother said with a weak smile as he stared at the plate of food. There was so much of it. He might not have thought so two years ago, but now he barely recognized the dish. He ate about four bites and was done. Jim knew the food wouldn’t run out, but he still couldn’t eat it all. “There’s plenty if you want seconds.” 

Jim glanced around the kitchen. There was a bowl of fruit and a cookie jar on the counter. That was new. He’d noticed a bowl of those hard candies grandmothers kept around when they’d walked in the house, too. Was that for him? So he would feel like there were things around to eat? “Full,” he mumbled. He didn’t look at her because he couldn’t stand the heartbreak that was written all over her face. He wasn’t full, not really, but Jim didn’t know how to live without hunger anymore. In fact, it was the only thing he could really feel, and the only thing that assured him at least his body wasn’t completely broken. It was weak and sometimes wouldn’t stand, but it still worked. It lived. 

They sat on either side of him on the couch as they put on one of his old favorite holovids and he felt like he was being strangled. It wasn’t one of the violent ones and he could see the amount of thought that had been put into picking it because the other holovids weren’t exactly peaceful. At some point, one of the kids told their parent they were hungry and asked when was dinner, and Jim’s mother exchanged a glance with Asshole. Jim couldn’t take anymore. 

He walked out and ignored the concerned questions and requests for him to stop. Crawling into bed, he pulled the blanket entirely over his head to try to block everything out, but that only made things worse. The bed was too soft and being under a blanket felt like being smothered, so he relocated to the floor without it and finally managed to sleep. 

Jim didn’t feel any better when he woke, and he was shaky so he stayed where he was and stared at a crack in the baseboard of his room. He traced each of its angles with his eyes and learned the smudges and dirty spots surrounding it because his brain seemed to only latch onto details of no importance anymore. He saw the blemishes as he closed his eyes and allowed sleep to fall on him again. 

Later, he was woken by a hand on his shoulder. Instinctively he grabbed and twisted while lurching back. Unfortunately, he only lurched into the bed, cracking his head pretty good. It didn’t stop him. He was on his feet, panting with the rush of adrenaline and ready- until he saw the terrified face of his mother. He looked away and shut his eyes, dragging in a breath to try to steady his racing pulse. 

She sat next to him on the bed and he wondered when he’d sat down. “Why were you sleeping on the floor, Jim?” 

He didn’t answer and she didn’t force him. They had a lot of conversations like this now, where she’d ask him why he did or didn’t do something and he wouldn’t answer and she wouldn’t force him. At least, they did for the first two or three weeks (Jim wasn’t keeping track) until his refusal to eat more than a few bites resulted in him passing out and waking up in the hospital. The smell of antiseptic burned his nose and Asshole’s and his mother’s voices weren’t low enough for him not to hear. They didn’t know he was awake and he wasn’t about to tell them. 

“I don’t know what to do,” she was saying quietly to him. “I don’t know how to help. I can only guess at what’s wrong because he hasn’t said more than one word to me.” She sniffled and Jim finally felt something: guilt. 

“You can’t blame yourself. The kid’s been through a lot. Most of the thousands of colonists never got off that planet, Win. God knows what happened there.” 

“That’s exactly the point! Something horrible happened to my baby- I don’t even know what!- and it’s my fault. It’s my fault. I sent him there and- and-“

Jim kept his eyes shut. He wasn’t going to let either of them know he’d heard that. Ever. He waited until visiting hours ended and they left. It was hard to fake his unconsciousness when his mother kissed him, and took everything he had when Asshole knocked his shoulder as if to bolster him. Being hit never bolstered him. It only made his heart race. Thankfully, the only equipment he was hooked up to was fluids and probably some kind of nourishment. He didn’t need them to hear his heart racing and realize he had overheard. 

Finally they left and he opened his eyes. Jim was tired, but not in the physical sense. He didn’t know if he had the strength to go on without his brother. 

Suddenly, for the first time since it happened, he was crying. The numbness exploded in agony and he didn’t have the control to stay quiet, so his tears summoned a nurse. Unable to get a response from him aside from a scream, she summoned a doctor who, with one glance at Jim’s file, injected something into his IV. Jim’s tears slowed, and so did everything around him as he sank into darkness. 

When he woke again, there was a strange but professional looking adult by his bed. Jim saw the PADD and immediately looked back to the ceiling. He was back to numb and remembered now that he wanted to be numb, that it was preferable to the alternative. 

“Mr. Kirk, I’m so glad to see you awake.” 

Ignoring her wasn’t going to work then. 

“I’m Dr. Genestra,” she introduced herself, “and I’m just here to see to your recovery.” 

“You don’t dress like a doctor,” he said as he took in her blue jeans, collared shirt, and cardigan. He was surprised to hear his own voice. It was scratchy and out of practice, but it was still his. 

“I’m not a fan of the hospital aesthetic,” she said with a wry smile. 

Jim glanced sideways at her as he did the math she didn’t want him to add up. “You’re a shrink.” 

“Yes,” she admitted. Good. He was tired of adults cushioning him from everything. “I’m sure you’re expecting to be told that I won’t make you talk about anything, or that I understand how hard things must be for you-“

“You don’t.” 

“Which is why I’m going to ask you to tell me about it.” 

“No.” 

If she was fazed in the least, she didn’t show it. “Mr. Kirk, it’s my job to help people.” 

“So go help someone else. I don’t want it.” 

She stood and went to the window. “I have often found that what we want is often the exact opposite of what we need. So, I’ll tell you what. You’re stuck here and, in a manner of speaking, so am I. So we can talk and you can determine what about.” 

“Not interested.” 

“I have a son a little older than you,” she told him, ignoring his implied wish for silence and going on as if they were having a friendly conversation. “He’s in Starfleet, just the Academy, and they have a lesson there that everyone fails. That’s because the point of the lesson is that sometimes there is truly no way to win. No matter what we try, no matter which tactic we take, people die. So we save those we can, and we realize that there was nothing else we could have done.” 

“I’m not interested in Starfleet.” 

“No, but you have survived such a no-win scenario and you are blaming yourself for those who died when there was nothing you could have done. There is no what-if that magically makes it better, Mr. Kirk. I promise you that.” 

Jim glared at the ceiling. The last thing he needed was some shrink telling him what was going on in his head. Sure, he’d spoken to her more than his mother (and there was that pang of guilt again) but that didn’t mean she knew anything about him. Even if she had guessed correctly. 

She turned back to him and leaned against the window sill. “Do you disagree? If something happened that was your fault, please tell me. We’ll press charges if you think you truly got anyone killed through negligence.” 

“I’m fourteen.” 

“The Federation takes genocide very seriously.” 

“I didn’t kill anyone.” 

“You don’t believe that though, do you?” 

Jim sat up and pulled out his IV, not caring about how his health was doing or what reason he needed to be kept there. He wasn’t stuck. He was going to walk right out. 

“I have a letter from Thomas Leighton for you.” 

He stopped halfway to the door with his heart hammering. “I don’t want it.” 

“You don’t think you owe him enough to read his letter?” 

“Did you read it?” 

“No, it’s sealed. I want you to have a conversation with me. I’m scheduled to be here for another thirty minutes. We don’t have to talk about the Courses, or anything important, though my security clearance is high enough that you can speak freely. We can talk about baseball, if you like. The Cubs won the world series for the first time since the twenty-first century while you were off-planet, you know. I don’t care what we talk about, but we are going to talk. Then I will give you this letter, and you can go home. What you do with it is up to you.” 

She smiled like she knew she’d won and that pissed Jim off because she was right. “I don’t have anything to say.” 

“Okay. Well, what would you like to talk about?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“Why not?” 

“Because I don’t feel like talking.” 

“Okay. What do you like doing, Jim?” 

He shrugged uncomfortably. The answer was nothing. He didn’t like anything anymore. 

“What interests you?” 

He shrugged again. 

She paused for a moment, like she was considering her words. “It’s okay to not be okay, you know. I could tell you that it’s normal to lose interest in things, but I get the sense that you don’t really care for facts. Am I close?” 

“Dead on,” he said sullenly. 

“Have you heard of survivor’s guilt, Mr. Kirk?” 

He rolled his eyes. “We can talk about whatever I want, yeah?” 

“If you have another topic, please let me know. Otherwise, I’m going to have to talk about whatever I’m interested in.” 

“Oh, and that’s me, is it? Well, I don’t feel guilty for living, okay?” 

“Survivor’s guilt can mean that you feel there is something else you should have done, or that someone else should not have died. It’s a kind of grief.” 

Kirk felt the warning pain in his chest that meant he was close to losing the protection of numbness. “Why did Thomas write me a letter?” She said he’d have to change the subject, and it was the first thing that came to mind. 

“I didn’t read it, so I can’t possibly tell you. I guess there was something he wanted to say to you.” 

“His brother didn’t even make it to the Courses, you know. They picked some of the kids with the lowest aptitude tests and just killed them. The rest of us I guess they wanted to test our combat and survival skills. See, adults, they have already picked their career paths, so you know what you’re getting, but kids? All you know about us is our test scores. You don’t know who’s going to grow up to save lives and who’s going to grow up to explore space or make food or whatever. So it was just another aptitude test. The Courses. To figure out who deserved food.” 

She didn’t say anything. Her face gave nothing away, so he could only wonder if she was waiting for him to continue or if he’d shocked her into silence. He didn’t like not knowing because his response depended on hers. He wanted to shock her, wanted to disgust her so she’d never make him talk again. But if she was waiting for him to go on… Well, he could throw out some more. 

“See, the funny thing is… despite being one of the winners, I still didn’t really get food. One of the losers- one of the kids who died- his father was important off-world and Kodos knew it would cause a diplomatic incident. So he punished me by starving me. I won, but not really.” 

“Were you the only one punished?” 

“Well, it was my fault, so yeah.” 

“Just because he blamed you-“

“Look, lady. It was my fault. One more kid had to go for that Course to end. It may not have been my choice, but it was definitely my fault. And I accept that, okay? I don’t follow standard human response time. I move right to acceptance. No denial, no bargaining.” 

Jim’s heart clenched painfully as he remembered that first meeting. If he could go back and do it over, he never would’ve befriended that pointy-eared bastard. It would hurt less. 

“That’s not necessarily a good thing, Mr. Kirk.” 

“Look, I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but we’re done here. No more tricks, no more letters. Either you leave or I do.” 

She must have realized how serious he was, because she actually crossed to the door. “Your mother has my card. If you change your mind.” 

“I won’t.” 

“I know.” 

He wasn’t relieved when she left. If anything, he felt worse. There was nothing she could have done because he knew himself well enough to know that he would’ve kept dodging and antagonizing her, but part of him wanted someone to force it out of him. It didn’t mean anything when they told him it wasn’t his fault. They weren’t there. They didn’t know. They didn’t live through it. 

Thomas did. Jim thought about the letter he hadn’t earned. What could Thomas possibly have to say to him? He got up and grabbed a tissue to apply to the small dot on his arm where he’d pulled out the IV. Thankfully he ate a piece of toast and they didn’t put it back in. Apparently as long as he was willing to eat in front of someone, they were willing to not force nutrition into his veins. 

Jim realized he did feel a little better. A little stronger. A little less broken. He was still numb and afraid of what was under that, but he had a bit of anger now and it was helping. He had to start at least keeping up appearances. If he appeared to eat, the hospital gave him his way. If he appeared to function, maybe his mother and Asshole would back off, too. Maybe if he put enough effort into convincing everyone else, he could convince himself, too. 


	3. Chapter 3

Jim beamed at Laurel and Matty (the name of the kid who knew about the window, apparently) as they successfully got the last bar off the window. They’d been set in cement so the prybar didn’t work as leverage, but they’d figured out how to use it as a chisel to weaken the cement. “I’ll get George with the rope ladder and we’ll get it hooked up. Then we can start sneaking people out.” 

Jim practically ran back to the gym and hesitated outside the doors to make sure there was no one besides kids in there. He slipped inside and George quickly crossed to meet him at the equipment closet. They kept their eyes on the Vulcan. He had an ear to the door and Jim tried not to wonder if the pointiness made them better at hearing. They snuck the ropes out of the closet and then snuck themselves out of the gym. 

Laurel and Matty were waiting anxiously with the bars rigged between the desk and the wall. There were originally four and they’d paired them off so that each end of the ladder would be held by two. Jim and George helped push the file cabinet against the desk for extra counterweight. Testing the bars, Jim grinned triumphantly. This was going to work. “Okay, you three wait here. I’ll get our archaeologist and you four will be the first group, okay? You start walking as soon as all four of you are down. I’ll make sure the next group follows you. Got it?” 

An hour later, they still had more than half the students to go. Jim was beginning to realize the problem he’d inadvertently created. It was obvious students were missing now. It wasn’t at first since they were leaving in small groups, but now it was. There were thirty-six of them left when the Vulcan shot him an alarmed look across the room. “Run!” Jim shouted and everyone complied. The Vulcan was the last out and they struggled to barricade the door. The algorithm they’d programmed into the lock was amateur and wouldn’t take the guards long. They ran for it and by the time the guards made it to the far end of the school in their search, it was just Jim and the Vulcan waiting to go down the ladder. It should’ve been one of them at a time, but they didn’t have time. 

“We are going to be caught,” the Vulcan told him. 

“We’re not gonna get caught-“

“I calculate a ninety-seven point eight percent probability that-“

“Just climb down, you pointy-eared bastard!” 

He actually looked shocked at the name but Jim didn’t have time. Once the Vulcan was the only left on the ladder, Jim started to move the file cabinet. It barely budged. He dumped the contents of the top drawer as fast as he could and managed to scrape it to block the doorway before it could slide open. His arms were shaking with the exertion by the time he got it there and he could barely climb the ladder. Good thing it was a small office. 

His hands rebelled and his arms didn’t want to hold him, but the bigger concern was the grinding noise he heard from the window. He was halfway down when the desk skidded and the ladder was left with nothing to hold it. Jim grimaced and struggled for air as he hit the ground. The wind had been knocked out of him. Without asking permission, the Vulcan picked him up and started after the rest of the kids. He coughed and finally gasped in air. “I can walk,” he said. “Put me down, I can walk.” 

“Your ankle is badly injured. This is faster.” 

Jim hadn’t even noticed the pain, but he looked and his ankle looked like it had a tennis ball growing out of it. “But my ego might survive.” 

“I will put you down when we get closer,” he promised. “For now, we must outrun them. If they get through your obstacles before we are out of sight, your plan is doomed.” 

“Our plan,” Jim corrected him. “We all came up with it.” 

“The details, yes. But the plan itself… You came up with it. The rest of them were just going to participate in this spectacle.” 

Jim was feeling dizzy. “I think that was almost a compliment, Vulcan.” 

“It was not meant to be almost, but a full-blown compliment, Human.” 

Kirk laughed a little and didn’t say anything else. His ankle still didn’t hurt, but his chest did. He coughed again and tasted copper. “That’s not good,” he mumbled. 

The Vulcan seemed to agree and sped up. The other kids were long gone. They had fear to fuel them and weren’t weighed down by the weight of someone else. By the time they stopped, they weren’t at the city, but they were out of sight of the school. The Vulcan laid him on the ground and started poking at him. Kirk started to argue with him, but whatever he was saying transformed into a yell of pain. The Vulcan’s hand clapped over Jim’s mouth with an almost painful strength. 

“You have a broken rib,” he stated calmly. “It seems your ankle was not the only part of you damaged in the fall.” 

Jim blinked and tried to keep his eyes from rolling back in head. “But I bought us enough time to get away.” 

“You did,” the Vulcan confirmed. Part of Jim wanted to hear some kind of regret, but this was a Vulcan. They were nothing if not logical and the math added up beautifully. If Jim died, then that was one death instead of ninety. 

Suddenly the Vulcan was taking off his shirt. “What the hell are you doing?” 

Without hesitation, ripping noises filled the air. He was tearing the shirt into one long strip that spiraled around the torso into what looked like a makeshift bandage. Then he took off his belt and offered it to Jim. “Bite down on this. I’m going to set your rib.” 

“I really don’t think-“

“Further movement will lower your chances of survival. It needs to be done now.” 

“One is better than ninety,” he murmured. 

“One is still one too many.” 

Jim groaned as the Vulcan helped him sit up. Before he could stop himself, he asked “How do you do that?” 

“Vulcans possess strength equal to-“

“No, I mean… You talk like you… I don’t know, like… I mean, you don’t have feelings, so it’s not like you’d really regret it or be sad if I died. And helping me, slowing yourself down… that decreases your chance of survival, doesn’t it?” 

The Vulcan did not answer. Instead, he offered Jim the belt again. “Bite down. This is going to hurt and we can’t have you attracting attention.” 

Jim rolled his eyes and did as he was told, trying not to think about where the belt had been. The agony of whatever it took to set a broken rib was so intense that Jim wasn’t even sure what it was. All he knew was pain. As he came down from it, the torn shirt was being wrapped around him and his own was on the ground. “Should have stolen some medical supplies,” the Vulcan was mumbling. “Walked right past them. Stupid.” 

Jim blinked. “Do you-“

“Don’t talk.” 

Jim shut up. Part of his silence was shock, but the rest was the realization that it actually hurt. Every breath aggravated the soreness and he was not about to add to it. 

He didn’t realize he’d passed out until he opened his eyes to darkness and cold. “Don’t breathe,” came the very quiet voice by his ear. They were in the cave and Jim could just barely make out other students. The cave itself would have been much larger if it wasn’t full of a hundred kids. The walls and floor were all stone, reddish gray in color. In the corner, he could make out a raised basin that was probably where the water collected. Everyone was silent and tense. Shit, had they been found? Already? How long had he been out? 

His eyes were wide as they heard a shuttle pass overhead. It kept going. After a minute of silent waiting, everyone seemed to breathe a sigh of relief and start talking quietly. “Jim!” 

Thomas crashed next to him, having realized he was awake. “Do not agitate him. He still has a broken rib.” 

Jim rolled his eyes as Thomas turned his attention on his fallen comrade. He relished in the positive attention. Sure, he’d almost died, but Thomas looked happy to see him and was going on about how scared he’d been and how glad he was that Jim hadn’t died. Jim had an unhealthy need for Thomas’ approval and this was filling it nicely. “I’m not that easy to kill,” he smirked. 

“Good, because I already lost my brother. I can’t lose you too.” 

Jim’s smile grew bittersweet, but it was too dark for anyone to notice. Unless Vulcans had better sight too, but he wasn’t about to worry about that. Thomas would miss him and that was what mattered. 

“Lucky our Vulcan friend knows some first aid then,” Jim smirked. He turned to the aforementioned and said, “How long was I out?” 

“Since yesterday. Remain prone. Even if the bone had been professionally set, they would still tell you to move as little as possible. You need proper medicine, not this millennial… leeches.” 

“What?” 

“Around the millennium, terrans still had to wait for bones to heal themselves. They would set them in place and hope the bone did not move while it healed.” 

“That’s horrifying,” Jim chuckled. 

“Well, they had only just stopped using leeches, so it is hardly surprising.” 

Kirk wrinkled his nose but quickly grew content as Thomas laid down next to him. The Vulcan immediately stiffened. “Well, now that you are conscious and I have requested that you not move, I should be joining the others in purifying water and creating the plan to find food. Get me if anything changes.” 

“Thanks, Vulcan,” Jim said, but it wasn’t an insult. 

The Vulcan actually gave him a very small smile. “You are welcome, Human.” 

Jim watched him go and wondered if Vulcans faked emotion to make other people trust them more. Thomas repeated how glad he was that Jim was alive and Jim replayed the Vulcan’s words in his head. The way he’d stumbled over that comment about leeches seemed so… human. It was like he wasn’t thinking straight, like he was distressed about something. 

Jim needed to stop projecting emotions where there were none. 

“So what next, Cap?” he asked and Jim wrinkled his nose again at the nickname. 

Jim sighed. “Apparently I lie here and don’t move while everyone else makes plans.” 

“Maybe they can come over here.” 

“Maybe,” Jim agreed. “I don’t know if I have any more plans in me just yet. I wouldn’t mind a break is all I’m saying.” 

Thomas knocked their shoulders together and Jim couldn’t stop himself from smiling. He wanted to tell him that even if they weren’t brothers, Thomas was a brother to him, but he couldn’t bring himself to. That wasn’t how they communicated. Even their nicknames were subtle digs at the things they were self-conscious about. Jim was haunted by the shadow of his father and Tony and Thomas knew it. Having his insecurity turned into a nickname almost helped. It had helped him come to terms with it. 

“Thanks,” he said quietly. “Don’t ask for what. Just… thanks.” 

“We’re gonna get through this,” Thomas said. “We’re gonna find my parents and save everyone that’s left. They’re talking about breaking into the other schools.” 

Jim couldn’t help it. He sat up and immediately coughed out an expletive. The Vulcan rushed over and started poking at him. Jim swatted at him, “Get off, it’s fine, I just moved too fast.” 

“Please do not force me to restrain you,” the Vulcan said calmly as he pressed the sore spot where Jim knew his bone was broken. “I believe it has not shifted.” 

“I told you it was okay, so-“

“Okay is unacceptable. Okay has variable definitions.” 

“Look, we can’t break into the other schools. We barely have enough space in this cave for the kids we have…”

“So you would reduce the casualties by only one fourth?” 

“No, that’s not what I’m saying, I just… We need some place better, a better plan. Otherwise we’re dooming a hundred percent to starving to death in a cave.” 

“If you do not remain prone, their chances will be one hundred percent better than yours.” 

“Well, I seem to be okay this time, so I’m not sure a hundred-“

“I was exaggerating for effect.” 

Thomas finally piped in, “I thought Vulcans couldn’t lie.” 

“Vulcans do not lie, but that does not mean we cannot.” 

“I’m pretty sure it’s both,” Thomas insisted. 

“Lay off him, Flick,” Jim sighed. “The guy’s got my ribs in his hand. Do you know how strong Vulcans are? He could break me as soon as think it. Don’t know why he was running from this… contest or whatever it is.” 

The Vulcan stood and with a curt, “Remain prone,” walked away. Jim wanted to make a joke about how he could remain prone when he was sitting up, but the words died in his throat. 

“Did I offend him?” 

“Nah, Vulcans don’t get offended. We should probably call him Prone though,” Thomas giggled. 

Jim smiled a little, and would have laughed with him but he intended to follow the advice. He laid back down gingerly and complied with Thomas’ request to tell him about the daring escape. He seemed especially interested in hearing about the Vulcan, but Jim felt like he was violating the boy’s privacy, so he tried to leave some of those details. “What about you? Was that the first search party?” 

“The third,” Thomas nodded gravely. “I think they’re on a circuit. They’ve come what seems like a consistent amount of time in between, but no one has any way of keeping track. So far we just stay really quiet, and they pass right on over. It’s getting dark, so they’ll probably put the fire out soon.” 

Jim looked at the pathetic fire in the corner and wondered which of these kids knew how to build a fire. That sort of thing was considered old fashioned, something only the Starfleet type would learn, the people who might actually go somewhere off grid. As if on cue, someone from the group that seemed like they were in charge of planning walked over and dumped a few handfuls of water on it. Someone had been smart to build it that close to the water pool. Jim tried to relax, but the ground was too hard and he was too cold with no blanket. “Was it this cold last night?” he asked Thomas. 

“Yeah,” the other boy confirmed quietly. 

The mood had changed now that the fire was out. When it was lit, they seemed like powerful rebels in charge of their own destiny. In the dark, it felt like they were just a group of scared and cold children. 

It was chaos when he woke up. Thomas was yanking him to his feet and Jim felt his rib dislocate and his ankle collapsed under him. Thomas caught him, slinging Jim’s arm over his shoulders and almost dragging him toward the entrance. “They found us, Jim! How did they find us so fast?” 

When Jim woke up again, he was in a proper medical wing. He had vague memories of kids running, of screaming and phasers, but wasn’t clear on exactly what had happened. The doctor didn’t fill him in and he was collected shortly by two guards and brought back to his school. The doors between the gym and the rest of the school had been welded shut, so not even hacking would work now. Apparently they weren’t going to be using the school as a school ever again. He wondered if anyone was going to be allowed to live at the end of this thing or if it was just some sick show. 

All eyes were on him as he was shoved into the crowd with the rest of them. Thomas found him immediately and pulled him to the edge of the crowd. “Do you remember the girl who picked the locks?” he asked urgently. 

Jim nodded. “Laurel,” he said with a sense of dread. Scanning the room, he didn’t see her. “Was she sent to another school?” 

Thomas shook his head, looking terrified. “They shot her, Jim. In front of all of us. They asked who was in charge-“

“You should have told them it was me!” 

“They didn’t want the ringleader, Jim. That Vulcan said it was him. They believed it too because I guess making plans to escape is a Vulcan thing? I don’t know, but they said this was what happened to people who follow stupid plans and they just… Jim, they knew it was her who hacked the locks and they just shot her. In the head.” 

Jim felt sick. This was his fault. “I should never have…”

“It’s too late now,” Thomas said. He seemed to sense Jim’s distress and gripped his arm. “She probably wouldn’t have made it to the last ten anyway.” 

“Well, now she definitely won’t,” Jim muttered. His chest hurt. He liked her. He learned her name. He didn’t even know what track she was in, what plans she had for the future. She was smart and probably would’ve done really cool things and now she was just a corpse. 

Jim scanned the crowd. The Vulcan wasn’t looking at anyone. He was seated against the wall with his eyes shut. Asleep? Jim wasn’t sure, but he decided to leave him be. “How long do we have?” he asked. 

Thomas shook his head. “They said something about a course. There are four courses and I guess they’re splitting us into four groups of twenty-five. Or I guess three and one group of twenty-four.” 

“What about the other schools?” 

“All of them, I guess. Maybe we’ll have to take turns.” 

Jim felt sick. “I can’t do this, Thomas.” 

Thomas didn’t reply right away. Finally, all he said was, “I put you on my list.” 

“And I put you on mine, but I can’t kill twenty other kids, Thomas. I’m not sure I can even let someone else do it.” 

“You have to, Jim. Promise me. Promise me you will do everything you can to live. Don’t leave me alone.” 

“You won’t be alone.” 

“They killed my parents.” 

All of the air went out of Jim and he stared at his brother in terror. He couldn’t imagine the Leightons being dead. He couldn’t imagine a world cruel enough for that. Kids were about to be forced to kill or be killed, but the Leightons? They’d been so kind to him. They’d cared. They loved him, or at least Jim thought they did. Now he’d never know for sure. 

“They won’t kill us, Flick. You promise me. Promise me that if I make it through this, you won’t leave me alone.” 

Thomas nodded somberly. Neither of them could promise something like that, but they did anyway. “At least they healed you,” Thomas said. “You’d have been dead without it.” 

Jim nodded. “Listen, if something does happen, if something goes wrong and either of us…”

His search for words was cut short when the doors hissed open. They didn’t even have to say it. Jim knew it was time. He barely heard his name, let alone the others when they called out group one. Thomas wasn’t on it. That was all that mattered. 

There were at least thirty guards and it seemed like twenty-five of them all had a specific job. Jim’s guy needed help because he was fighting. He couldn’t help it. Jim wasn’t ready. “You’re my brother!” he shouted. “You’re my brother, Flick!” 

It would seem stupid later when he was alone, but for now it was important. He needed the other boy to know how important he was. They were ushered out of the school, which was locked behind them and blocked by half a dozen guards. The Vulcan was right. It would be impossible to break anyone out a second time. He was belted into a shuttle and couldn’t bring himself to look around. The kid next to him started trying to talk to him, but he wasn’t going to let himself get attached. He’d promised his brother he’d come out of this, which meant twenty of the twenty-four other kids in this shuttle had to die. They couldn’t be real to him. Not if he was going to survive this. 


	4. Chapter 4

Jim walked nervously into the school. Instinctively, he eyed the doors and the keypads that were on them. The doors were glass, not metal. That was a start. He could smash his way out if he had to. He didn’t want to be here, but he wanted even less to be schooled at home by a mother who couldn’t stop staring at him like she had personally driven a knife into his belly. 

Every classroom he entered, he examined the door and then the window before taking the seat closest to the exit. It was all he could do not to get close up on either of them. He kept his observations surreptitious and he didn’t talk to any of the other kids. Everything was going fine until his last class of the day. 

It was an anthropology class, mandatory for everyone, and apparently there was a conspiracy to give Jim a heart attacked. 

“Today we’ll be starting our module on Vulcan and its customs,” the teacher opened. 

Jim grabbed his bag and left. The teacher had plenty to say about it, but Jim had no desire to listen or respond. He had to get out. He didn’t even want to hear the word Vulcan, let alone learn about them. He’d known a Vulcan, and his name was Ty. Jim never wanted to know another Vulcan, even in theory. He’d loved Ty like a brother but more. It felt like Ty was part of him, a part that had been ripped out and destroyed forever. Jim was spiraling and the sun grated on his eyes as he spun around, trying to figure out where to go. 

“Lost, new kid?” 

Jim turned. This was a student, probably older than himself. She wasn’t exactly Jim’s type, but she was definitely hot and that was at least enough to distract his awakening hormones. His voice had started changing a couple months ago, but this was the first time he’d actually been interested in a girl. “Hey,” he greeted her as he joined her around the side of the building. “I’m Jim.” 

“Hel,” she replied simply and Jim managed to keep a straight face. 

“That short for something?” 

“Is yours?” 

“Fair enough.” Jim leaned casually against the wall. “So you come here often?” 

She looked at him and actually laughed. Jim beamed. “Come on. I know a place we can score.” 

Jim wasn’t completely sure what she meant by score, but he was pretty sure it would be both fun and likely to get him in trouble. He wanted so badly to find a distraction and he was really hoping her definition of score meant make out. That sounded like the greatest possible distraction. 

He followed her eagerly, not caring that he’d just met her and she probably hadn’t even given him her real name. They ended up in a shady part of town and she let him into a house that probably wasn’t hers, but she knew just where the alcohol was. The room was dark and the furniture was all shades of brown. The couch was squishy but not soft. Jim hesitated when she took a swig straight from a bottle and offered it to him. He’d never done anything like this before and it was completely out of character. Then again, he had been out of character for months. What was some underage drinking when he’d killed nine kids? 

He grabbed the bottle and chugged, which was a mistake. He realized it as soon as he came up spluttering. Hel laughed at him a little before taking another swig. “Come on.” 

She joined him on the scratchy but squishy brown couch and sank into it, already feeling the effects of the booze. He felt calmer, and he liked it. Things were slowing down and he felt like he was walking on pillows. They passed the bottle back and forth until it was empty. “So do you want to get another bottle or do you want to mess around?” 

“Mess… around?” It was a request for clarification on what she meant, but she clearly thought he’d made a choice. She smiled drunkenly at him as she climbed on top of him and pressed her lips to his. This was fine. Jim was totally and completely okay with this turn of events. He was probably bad at kissing since he hadn’t done it before, but it felt good and she didn’t seem to mind. She seemed to enjoy it too, or maybe she was just as empty and broken as he was, searching for any kind of distraction imaginable. 

It was all going really well until his PADD started buzzing with a message from his mother. His cheeks were on fire as it flashed “MOM” in very big letters. She snickered and climbed off of him. “You’ve got to get better at sneaking around.” 

Jim forgot that his shirt was gone and answered the call immediately. “Jim, where are- What happened?” 

Jim looked at the small frame that contained him and quickly tried to smooth his hair out. “I went for a run with a friend from school. I’m thinking about trying out for track.” 

It was a lie and he was going to have to do it now, which was not remotely something he was interested in. At least it explained his shirt. When he finally got her to end the call and the screen went dark, he noticed his lips were swollen. There was no way she didn’t know what he’d been doing. 

“Well, if you’re not too busy with track, you should definitely come to this bar with me tomorrow.” 

“I’m pretty sure we’re not allowed in bars.” 

“Relax,” she assured him as she climbed back on top of him and shoved him into the couch. “It’s under 21 only. They don’t sell real drinks, but I know a guy there who sells something better.” 

Jim knew he was making bad choices, but she was kissing him even more intensely and if they were such bad choices, why did they feel good? 

She leapt off him at the sound of a car pulling up. She shoved his bag at him. “You have to get out. Sneak out the back. If my dad finds you here, he will literally kill you, Jim. Meet me tomorrow, okay?” 

She was pulling her shirt back on and that was a crime because Jim could stare at that chest even covered by a bra all day. Wait. “Your dad?” 

“Yes, now get out!” 

He didn’t think this was her house, but if her dad was home, then it must be. He’d just pictured her somewhere… less shabby. 

Jim snuck out the back as ordered, barely missing her dad and he ran until he found some bushes he could hide behind while he pulled his shirt back on and composed himself. He grinned. He felt alive for the first time in almost a year. He liked Hel a lot. 

Meeting her the next day was a no-brainer. He’d already learned everything they were teaching in the classes he’d attended the day before, so it wasn’t like he was missing anything except being bored out of his skull. Hel brought him back to her house again and they tangled themselves up on the couch and made out a little while a holovid played. “I like you,” Jim breathed heavily. 

“Good,” she grinned. “Club opens in about an hour. I think you’ll like me even more when you’re high.” 

Jim grinned at her. He wasn’t sure how much more he could like her. He already liked everything about her, especially the part where they didn’t really know each other. Jim had realized in the past twenty-four hours that he liked having fun without attachments. If he wasn’t attached to someone, they couldn’t hurt him. 

They made out for another half hour before heading out. Jim ran his fingers through his hair as they walked to the bus stop, trying to hide what they’d been doing. Hel seemed to really like his hair, and he really liked her messing with it. She smirked and giggled at him a little. “Literally no one is going to notice.” 

“It’s everywhere,” he said. 

“It just looks messy. Like you did it to look cool.” 

Jim sighed and stopped. If Hel thought he looked cool, he would leave it. On the bus, she sat as close as she possibly could to him without actually sitting on top of him. Somehow he found this disappointing. He really wouldn’t have minded her in his lap. Now that he was sober and had spent some time with her, she wasn’t as old as she looked. She was probably the same age as Jim. “So how old are you?” he asked and she rolled her eyes. 

“It’s not polite to ask a lady questions like that.” 

“Okay. I was just wondering if you were older than me or not.” 

“Well, how old are you?” 

“Fourteen,” he mumbled and his cheeks began to heat up. 

“Hm. Then not. You kind of look younger.” 

“Yeah, I’m small for my age,” he remarked and turned to look out the window. Malnutrition could do that, and now he was thinking and that wasn’t what he wanted at all. 

She grabbed his chin and turned his face back. “Where do you go?” 

“What?” 

“Sometimes you get this look on your face…”

Jim shook his head. “I’m right here.” 

She smiled and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. Jim opened his mouth but didn’t have any words. He didn’t like that kiss. It felt personal, like she wanted to know him, and Jim knew she wouldn’t if she had any clue who he really was. “So, how much further?” he asked. 

Her eyes darkened a little and she released his chin. Shit, he’d done something wrong. “Two more stops.” 

Two stops later, she hadn’t spoken to him again and that all but confirmed he’d done something wrong. His inner monologue was a string of expletives as they walked in and she pushed him into a booth. “Wait here,” she told him with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. 

Jim did, his eyes scanning the crowd, though “crowd” may have been too generous a word. Jim wondered if it was this empty because it was early or because this was just a dive that no one liked. It looked like the place was run mostly by older teens and it was just as dark as Hel’s house only there was more open space for everyone to not dance in. The bartender might have been in college, but it seemed like they took that under 21 only thing to an extreme. The bouncer that had let them in seemed like he might be an actual adult, but otherwise, the oldest person in there was the bartender. 

Drumming his fingers on the table impatiently, Jim began to wonder if he’d been abandoned. He didn’t see Hel anywhere. With a huff, he got up and went to the bar, which really only had soda and juice. He got two cokes and figured he’d drink them both if Hel had actually abandoned him. Finally, she reappeared and slid into the booth next to him. “I got drinks,” he said uncertainly. 

She beamed. “Perfect. Speaking of drinks, don’t mix alcohol with these. Wait until tomorrow night.” 

“With what?” Jim asked uncertainly. 

She pulled two little baggies out of her pocket, each containing a pill. Jim swallowed nervously. This was more than he’d expected. Of course, she’d said something better than alcohol. He hadn’t expected it to be music and dancing, but this was somehow more than he’d come here for. It was too late now though, and she was offering it to him with advice that sounded like she knew what she was doing, so he took it. 

Nervous as he was, the pill went down easily enough and he tried to silence a burp from the coke. She giggled again. “You are too cute.” 

He grinned a little even though he was afraid she was getting attached to him. When his head stopped spinning, he’d have to talk to her about what they were expecting from each other. His breath grew a little shallow and he felt like he was watching everything through water, but it was somehow so clear. His heart was pounding, but he felt good. 

She appeared in his field of vision with her pupils completely blown. “It hit you yet?” 

He nodded and the look on his face must have been priceless because she pressed her mouth to his and he had her tongue in his mouth for a full four seconds before she was pulling him to the dance floor. Everything was more intense in the best possible way. The music felt like silk and the lights sent electric tingles through his brain. Even better was Hel smiling and occasionally bumping against him. They were sweaty by the time a slow song finally played. Immediately, she pressed into him and buried her face in his neck. 

Humming against his skin in a way that sent chills through his entire body, she said, “Do you want to get out of here?” 

“And go where?” 

She kissed his neck and licked the outer shell of his ear. “Somewhere I can have my way with you.” 

Jim shivered bodily at that. He tried to remember what had been important earlier. “I don’t wanna relationship,” he told her like it was a verb. “I don’t fall in love.” 

“Good,” she replied and dragged him out the backdoor. Later, he’d realize how pathetic it had all been, the pair of them going at it in an alley, with Jim not even able to get hard, but that didn’t stop them from doing their best. He was high not just on the drugs she’d given him, but the way she moaned his name when everything should have been too clumsy to feel good instead of awkward. 

They kissed for a while in that alley after, and then took the bus together. She sprawled against him and he wrapped his arms around her, enjoying the feel of a warm body against his. He was too high to remember the last time that had happened and that was the best possible thing. He buried his nose in her hair and wondered if he was being stupid, refusing to care. Maybe. Maybe he already did, which was stupid because he didn’t even know her. It had been two days and Jim wasn’t as soft-hearted and easy to own as he used to be. Sure, he craved love and approval but he didn’t let it control him anymore. He’d been so desperate for love he’d told Thomas they were brothers. Jim wasn’t about to embarrass himself like that again just because someone was nice to him. 

“This is me,” she said and pulled free slowly. “See you tomorrow?” 

“Definitely,” Jim agreed. 

This wasn’t going to end well. They were both going to crash and burn. 


	5. Chapter 5

Kodos stood in the middle of them. Jim couldn’t help but think how easy it would be to take him down with the twenty-five of them, before the guards could stop them, if only they’d been able to plan for this. Instead, they all stood scared of one man who was giving them a speech that Jim was trying very hard to pay attention to. 

This was life and death. 

“In the course, you’ll find everything you could possibly need. There will be materials you can create shelter from, places to cook, and some hidden food stores. Also hidden, you will find weapons. You will all be locked in the course until five of you remain. The winners will be housed at the community center for the duration of the Games.” 

Games. Kodos had just referred to this as a game. He was asking kids to murder each other and it was a game? “Anyone caught attempting to escape will be brought before their remaining relatives and everyone on their list,” Kodos informed them lightly. “You will then watch as they are shot in the head one by one. That is to say that these Courses are not optional, and you will only survive if you are one of the final five. Your loved ones will only survive if you follow the rules. Understood?” 

No one spoke and Kodos took that as compliance. “Good. You will be released into the course all at once. I recommend using this as an opportunity to end the Course as quickly as possible as the first two schools did.” 

Jim felt his stomach twist and try to empty what wasn’t there. They were third and the first two had already finished their first Courses. That meant eighty kids were dead. No. eighty-one. Laurel made eighty-one. Jim frowned. That math didn’t make sense. Hadn’t Kodos said a tenth? If the groups of twenty-five were reduced to five each, that was a fifth. That was twice as many surivors as they’d been promised. 

The doors opened and Kodos stepped into the archway. “You will each stand by one of the flags to ensure fair play. The doors will close once you are all in place, and you may move as soon as it closes. Anyone who moves before the doors close- and we will know because there is a camera- will have their loved ones shot. 

“You will be locked in until there are twenty bodies. Leave them in view of the camera, and we will take care of funeral arrangements.” 

Jim clenched his jaw. He was almost happy for Tony. At least it had been quick and painless and he didn’t have to see or hear about any of this. Though also listening, Jim had spent Kodos’ speech looking at the course, surveying it. There was a forest to the right. He couldn’t make it out very well, but he made certain to get a flag close to it. He had no intent to participate in a bloody battle. Anyway, the forest had to have some place to hide. Jim would see what he could do to simply hide until it was all over. It wasn’t courageous, but he’d promised Thomas he’d live and he didn’t want to do it by killing. 

His heart rate picked up and he felt breathless as the door began to slowly slide close, a metallic grinding making Jim squint against the pain of it. It had to be heavy to take that long, or the machinery had to be very old. Maybe both. With a last swoosh of air and a thud, it shut. 

Jim ran. 

And ran. 

He spotted some kind of alcove or cave but ignored it. Something like that would great, easy shelter, but tactically useless. Worse than useless. He could get cornered in there. Caves were a trap, as they’d already learned. 

There was a water source and he did his best to look for landmarks that would help him find it again, but he wasn’t about to slow his pace. 

There were footsteps about fifty meters back. Jim ran harder. 

A shimmer of light, like a reflection caused him to come skidding to a stop. He grabbed a stick and reached it out until it hit something solid. They’d cloaked the edge of the course. How? This was a Federation colony, and the Federation didn’t have cloaking technology. Shields, sure, but this? 

There wasn’t time. He turned to see who was following him, hoping this would end quickly and without any killing. When he saw the guy, he didn’t think it would be. He was probably the oldest he could be and still be considered a student, and had at least half a meter on Jim. 

“I’m sorry,” he said and Jim believed him. “I don’t want to die.” 

Jim held up his stick in a pathetic attempt to look intimidating, but how could he be? He was a skinny thirteen year old boy whose voice hadn’t even dropped all the way. “I don’t want to kill you,” he said carefully. 

The guy laughed humorlessly. “I’d ask your name, but I don’t really want to know. Truth is, I followed you because I figured you were alone so it’d be easier to pick you off.” 

“My name is James Tiberius Kirk,” he stated as calmly as he could. If this guy wanted a clear conscience, Jim wasn’t about to give it to him. “I ran because I promised my brother I would live, and I’m not willing to kill anyone.” 

It had the desired effect, but it wasn’t enough. Now paler, the older kid said, “Well, James… it’s kill or be killed in here. You can’t have both.” 

Jim tightened his grip on the stick. He got it. He really did. He wasn’t about to hold it against this guy, but he wasn’t about to die. He refused. “If all of us joined forces, we could stop this. They’re pitting us against each other because they know if we aren’t at each other’s throats, we’ll rise against them. We could’ve killed Kodos back there and-“

“Look, I have a sister, okay? And my dad is still alive, so I’m not about to risk them just because you say-“

“Think about it!” Jim interrupted. “He already killed almost half the population! There’s no need to kill all us kids! I don’t need to eat everyday. I’ll eat every other day if it means someone doesn’t have to die!” 

For a second, the older boy considered it, but only for a second. His expression was set. “I’m sorry, but only one of us is going to walk away from this.” 

“That’s your choice, not mine.” 

The older boy wasn’t willing to engage anymore. Maybe he was afraid Jim would actually talk him into it. Jim didn’t have time to figure it out though, as he was charged, full speed. He backed up a bit until he felt a buzz of electricity against his shoulder blades and then leapt out of the way at the last second. 

It wouldn’t be enough electricity to keep the kid down, just stun him for a moment. Jim sprinted until he found some thicker trees and immediately climbed one. He only hoped he’d made it out of sight before his assailant made it too close. Jim hugged the thin tree trunk and held his hands painfully tight over his mouth in an effort to breathe slowly through his nose. He didn’t relax even when the other boy had clearly not seen him. He was almost directly under Jim’s hiding place, looking into the distance with a confused expression on his face. It hadn’t occurred to him that there was another level to the course like it had for Jim. The trees were perfect. This was where Jim was going to hide. He just had to figure out how to stay in them if this went on long enough that he’d need sleep. He watched as the older boy disappeared into the trees, still searching for him, and did not move. Instead, Jim surveyed the tree tops. He’d need one with thick, full branches to hide what was at the top, and maybe some that would be conducive to sleeping in. If he could get one with two branches at about armrest height to a third, that could probably keep him in a tree while asleep. 

Jim could hear fighting in the distance, which meant he was close to the entrance, or at least closer than he wanted to be. There was a yelp and he couldn’t tell if it was a boy or girl, but it wrenched deep in his core. There was another and Jim decided he didn’t want to sleep because he’d certainly be hearing that again when he did. 

It sounded like it was dying down- no, that was a poor choice of words- and Jim wondered how many had survived. Not enough. There was sprinting in the trees and he saw the Vulcan chasing the big kid that had been after Jim a few moments ago. He seemed scared now and Jim could understand why. Now that the Vulcan wasn’t on his side, now that they were in a situation where everyone was a threat, he looked intimidating. He wasn’t as tall as the other kid, but he was still a head taller than Jim- something that had escaped him when they were sitting on the floor or when he was pumped full of adrenaline during their escape. Definitely not when he was being carried by the aforementioned Vulcan. 

Now though, now the look on his face was unrecognizable. If Vulcans could feel, Jim would say he felt rage, but since they couldn’t, he’d have to say that was a look of murder. It chilled Jim to his core. Somehow, it made him feel heartbroken to witness the change. He’d known Vulcans were different, but he’d let himself like the boy. How could he not like someone who’d saved his life? 

He could hear them struggling now and shut his eyes as if that would somehow make the sound go away. Jim could feel himself coming apart. This was too much. There were sounds of murder, of a body being _broken_ coming at him from two different directions while he hid in a tree and he was only thirteen. He heard the sound of smashing bones and couldn’t stop the small sob that choked out. He tightened his grip on his jaw and tried to hold his breath. He couldn’t stop picturing it though. Since he didn’t know what happened or to whom, “it” kept changing, scenarios more horrible than the last all playing in his mind’s eye. 

Another sob wrenched out of him and to his horror, he was overheard. It was the Vulcan and he looked up at Jim in surprise. He hadn’t thought of the trees either, and now Jim realized they were just as bad as the cave. He was cornered- or was he? 

Before the Vulcan could even begin to climb, Jim headed toward the next tree and the next. If the Vulcan wanted to climb a tree after him, Jim would ensure it was always the wrong one. The Vulcan must have reached this conclusion as well and headed in a different direction, after easier prey maybe. Jim needed to find a new hiding place, he knew, but he also needed a moment. The tree he was in was fairly full, so he hugged a branch and sank against it as despair overwhelmed him. 

He couldn’t do this. 


	6. Chapter 6

Jim knew he was going to get caught sooner or later. He’d just thought it would be worse when he did. Apparently being traumatized in an off-world genocide meant he got a lot of slack- something he’d be taking advantage of in the future. Both his mother and the school principal seemed to agree that his needs weren’t being met, that he was just _too smart_ for these classes. They thought he was acting out because he was bored. Well, numbness was a form of boredom, he guessed. He couldn’t blame them for not understanding how much he hated the school building or why. He wasn’t about to explain it though. Starfleet had made it pretty clear that the consequences of doing so would be severe. 

What he didn’t like was being personally escorted to his placement and aptitude exams by his mother who smiled encouragement at him through the glass observation window. She had a PADD to read, but apparently watching her son stare morosely at a screen was more interesting. Feeling fed up, Jim decided to bomb the test. He could solve most of the math without writing it out and picked whichever answer was furthest from correct. For the language questions, he picked the answers that test takers put in to amuse themselves because they’re so obviously incorrect. For the essay, he wrote about the intestinal process of flatulence. He was tempted to title it “Fuck School and Fuck You,” but that seemed less subtle than the rest of it. 

Jim was angry, and he couldn’t seem to finish the thought that always began _I just want,_ because everything that followed was not something he actually wanted. To go home? He couldn’t stand it there. To sleep? His nightmares were usually worse than being awake. To be left alone? That was a tricky one. He wanted people to stop expecting things from him, sure, but when he was truly alone, Jim felt a terror like no other. It was like he was locked in that cell again, tracing every inch of wall with his eyes, cataloguing its flaws just so he didn’t go crazy. Jim was pretty sure he’d gone crazy anyway. 

Maybe he just wanted to get high. He ruminated on that one for a moment as he followed his mother back to the shuttle. Getting high was good. It was the only thing that didn’t have a downside. Getting high and making out with Hel. Unfortunately, that was barred from him. He was under constant surveillance now and his mother didn’t seem to want to let him out of her sight. He understood that she was worried, but he got the impression that she had some misguided notion that he was going to disappear if she stopped looking at him or left the room. It made him extremely uncomfortable and it made him crave more of whatever those pills had been. 

Even worse was the meeting he had to go to about his test scores. He was sitting in an office, trying very hard not to reveal that he was about to crawl out of his skin, and the administrator was late. Very late. Like, better be dead or hospitalized late. Then again, it wasn’t like anyone really cared about Jim or what he wanted. They all had expectations of him, and had since the day he was born and his father sacrificed himself so they could all wonder why his son couldn’t live up to him. 

Furious with impatience, Jim stood and began pacing. Sitting still was killing him. He started skimming the titles on the little bookshelf that was there, but none of them really drew his interest. There was one on Vulcan traditions and customs that made him finally abandon the bookshelf in favor of inspecting the window. He was starting to feel trapped and who thought it was a good idea to lock a kid alone in an office? Weren’t there confidential documents they should be worried about? Well, Jim was going to find out, and that would teach them. When he was holding staff medical files, they’d never lock him up again and (as an added bonus), maybe they’d expel him. 

He had just sat down at the desk when the door finally slid open. 

Casually, he leaned back and ignored his racing heart. “So glad you could make it. What’s tardiness go for these days? Detention or maybe a couple of days suspension…?”

She only raised an eyebrow. “I guess it depends on the excuse.” 

Without missing a beat, she sat down in the empty chair as thought she’d planned all along for Jim to take the chair behind the desk and he suppressed an eye roll. Another well-meaning adult who wanted to be the one to “save” him. 

“So, I’m sure my scores were great and all, but I’m not really into this whole thing, so can we just get this over with?” 

She put her folders down on the desk and opened one with his name on the label. “Your test scores were actually very interesting.” 

“Yeah, interesting means we’re about to have a long talk and I’ve got places to be and people to do, and since we got started so late….”

“Well, I was looking at your answers because I think we all know that, even if you didn’t know the answers and were just guessing, the statistical probability of you getting a complete zero on all the multiple choice questions is next to nothing. Your essay on flatulence, while clearly meant to be disrespectful, actually shows a very solid understanding of the human digestive system as well as the mechanics of writing itself.” 

“So what?” 

“So I had a look at your answers and, not only were they wrong, but they were the furthest from the answer. Consistently. Do you want to know what I think happened?” 

“Definitely not, but you’re going to tell me anyway.” 

She didn’t respond to the barb and just said, “I think you knew all the answers.” 

“Yep, that’s how I got them all wrong.” 

“I think it is, actually. I can’t make you pick the answers you come up with, James, but-“

“Don’t call me that.” 

Finally, she looked thrown off. Maybe it was the stony look on his face or the sudden leap from sarcastic to serious, but she realized she’d stepped into something that mattered. 

“What would you like to be called if not your name?” 

Jim realized his mistake. Now she thought she could make progress with him, get a nickname and be his buddy. Well, he wasn’t going to have that. So, with a perfectly serious expression on his face, he said, “Ben, last name Dover.” 

Her face fell a bit before it returned to neutral and he almost felt bad, but then he remembered that she was another patronizing adult who thought he needed a savior and probably had heroic visions of him triumphing and thanking her (with tears in his eyes) for just believing in him enough that his life magically fixed itself. “Well, like I said, _Mr. Dover_. I can’t make you retake the assessments and pick the right answers, but I can recommend you for the right classes. Which, I think, are senior level. You could take senior level classes and, if you pass, be done with ‘this whole thing.’” 

Jim paused. She had hit on something he liked and they both knew it. He wouldn’t exactly be free because he was still a minor, but they couldn’t make him stay in school if he’d passed it all, right? 

“Fine.” 

So that was how Jim found himself taking way too many classes with teachers who seemed to want to give him way too many assignments. He was three years younger than his classmates, so they assumed he was some kind of prodigy who loved learning. Apparently no one had informed them he was a fragile, traumatized kid. He might have enjoyed it if he didn’t feel like he was being manipulated. 

Jim was keeping on top of the assignments anyway. They didn’t take him long and the more he pretended to do well, the more his mother believed he was turning around. Hel glared at him with disdain whenever possible, and he just looked away. He couldn’t blame her. So when he got a message from her on his PADD Friday telling him to come over, he was shocked. 

“Look, Hel, I’m not purposely avoiding you, okay?” was the first thing he said, not even a hello. 

“Make it up to me by making out with me,” she said and he didn’t feel right about it, but she didn’t really give him an option. He tried really hard, but he just couldn’t get into it so he finally broke away. 

“Look, I know I said I don’t want any kind of relationship or feelings or-“

“So what’s the problem?” 

“You’re still a person, and I was trying to apologize and-“

“That’s the beauty of no feelings, Jim,” she told him. “You don’t have to apologize for hurting my feelings, because we agreed not to have feelings, right?” 

He looked away. He cared about her and that was a huge problem. “It just seemed like you might’ve been annoyed or something. And I just wanted to explain that I’ve been watched like twenty-four, seven. I wanted to hang out sooner.” 

She drew close and put her hand to his cheek as the rest of her body followed in line to press into him. “You’re sweet, Jim. Maybe a little too sweet.” She pecked him on the lips. “Would drugs help?” 

Jim realized then that she was somehow more broken than he was. “I don’t know,” he replied uncertainly. He couldn’t tell if sleeping with her helped, if it took her mind off things, or if it was only feeding her spiral. She looked desperate, though, and she was pushing a pill into his palm and he didn’t _want_ to say no. It wasn’t really his place to decide what she needed, and he barely knew her anyway. Right? 

Jim shook his head. “I can’t,” he mumbled and pushed the pill back into her hand. It didn’t feel right. The whole situation felt wrong, and he had a sick feeling in his stomach like something bad was happening. 

“Jim.” 

She sounded like she was about to fall apart and he had no idea how to help. It froze him to his core. “I don’t know,” he said in a clueless voice. “I just… I don’t know.” 

“What do you want from me?” she asked, sounding angry now. “I got you drunk and high and I had sex with you… I agreed to your terms… But now that I want something, you don’t know?” 

He couldn’t say he thought he was making things worse for her. “It’s not like that.” 

“Then what is it like, Jim? Tell me, because I’ve got a lot running through my mind right now and all of it’s ugly.” 

“You scare me,” he confessed. 

That threw her for a loop. She stared at him with an injured look. “And what is it you think I’m going to do, Jim?” 

“Self-destruct.” The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. Silence fell and he realized she’d meant that she couldn’t hurt him because she was smaller or something. Jim already knew size had nothing to do with someone’s ability to win a fight, but he couldn’t tell her that. It especially had nothing to do with how badly you could hurt someone. 

Finally, she let out a laugh. That chilled him even more. “Jim, you are the one following a strange girl into a strange house, drinking and taking whatever she gives you. _I’m_ the one self-destructing? Look, if you want to leave, then leave. All I wanted was a hookup without any drama. I thought that was what you wanted, too.” 

Whether it was the challenge to his intelligence for following her or the challenge of his intent, he wasn’t sure. Maybe both, but a little spark of anger flared in him and he opened her hand without asking and swallowed the pill dry. It chafed and burned all the way down his esophagus but he didn’t flinch. “Better?” he asked, but it was just another challenge and not a question. 

She grinned darkly and this time their kisses weren’t gentle. They were both angry and when Jim came down the next morning, what he could remember made him want to die in shame. He’d been needlessly rough with her as if he had been taking out his anger on her, not that she’d had any objections. 

Jim didn’t meet her eyes the next day outside the school, or the day after that. The third day, she wasn’t even there to avoid and Jim couldn’t help the wave of relief that went through him. He’d been trying to convince himself he was a good person, but he wasn’t. Deep down, he had an anger that was eating him alive and he needed to figure out how to control it before it did more damage than it already had. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have this horrible feeling people will hate Hel more than Jim in this fic so i just want to say they are both terrible and toxic to each other and i love Hel. She and Jim are both sweet cinnamon rolls, they just should not be on the same cookie sheet.


	7. Chapter 7

Jim let out a harsh breath as he tried to stretch some of the stiffness out of his muscles. The sun had gone down twice and risen on a third day in the course. Apparently they weren’t going to end it quickly like the first two groups. His stomach hurt from not eating and it felt like there were little ice picks jabbing his lungs over and over. He had to find that water source and maybe something to eat or he was going to die. 

His legs protested as he climbed down and his hip joints felt like they were lined with cotton and sandpaper once he was finally standing upright. Staying wary of his surroundings, Jim made his way quietly through the forest. Everything looked alike, so he resorted to listening- for water sounds, for the sounds of insects, anything. It felt like ages before he finally heard something, but it wasn’t water. It was running. 

As quickly as he could, he climbed the leafiest tree in his immediately vicinity. This time, the Vulcan was being chased by five other kids. “Shit,” Jim hissed. They caught up with him just past Jim’s hiding place, tackling him into the dirt. Jim heard the crack of his nose on a tree root and cringed as they started wailing on him. He had to do something. 

The trees offered no help, but then Jim noticed something that one of them had dropped- an old fashioned fire lighter. He climbed down quietly, hoping they stayed occupied, but his tired limbs gave him away, sending him crashing the last meter to the ground. He lunged for the lighter and flicked it desperately until it finally lit and shoved the open flame into the face of the guy coming for him. The shriek of pain that came out of him made Jim cringe, but there was no time to waste. He lit the leaves of the branch he’d broken in his fall and held it in front of him. 

The flames grew and none of them could get near him, so he used it to herd them away from the Vulcan, hoping that he’d see how illogical it was to attack the person who was saving him when the other five (or at least four) were still ready to attack. Number five was crying and nursing the burn on his cheek. Jim felt a little remorse, but mostly he didn’t. 

“We know where you’re hiding now,” the older girl in the group told him as they all backed away. “And you’ll need water sooner rather than later, kid.” 

Shit, did that mean they were guarding the water source? Had these five formed some kind of alliance to take everyone else out and be the only survivors? 

Once they were at a safe distance, Jim dropped the branch and threw dirt on it. He turned his attention to the Vulcan. He was barely recognizable from the beating he’d received. Jim needn’t have worried about being attacked. The older boy was in no position to attack so much as a fly. 

“Hey,” he said gently, feeling awkward. “You still with us?” 

The Vulcan opened one eye slowly, but it kept rolling back like he couldn’t focus. “Shit,” Jim muttered. “Shit, shit, shit.” He should just leave the guy there, but he couldn’t- not like that. “Okay, um… I’ll be back. Don’t… go anywhere.” 

Jim rolled his eyes at his own words and hurried to find somewhere, anywhere to hide. It couldn’t be straight in the opposite direction, so he went left. That would get them further from both the entrance and the five. He wondered how many more were left. Were he and the Vulcan the only ones standing in their way? Jim decided not to think about it. For now, his job was to find a hiding place and get the Vulcan there. 

He found the cave again and decided he had to consider it. The trees were off-limits, but maybe he could camouflage the cave and hide it from sight somehow. He looked around and inspiration hit, but first he had to save the Vulcan. 

It was hard work and Jim’s muscles screamed and shook in protest as he hauled a much larger boy through the woods. He stumbled more than once and eventually fell flat on his face. It was much harder to get back up, but he knew he was almost there. “Too fucking tall,” he panted as he dragged the Vulcan into the cave. “Why couldn’t you have been a tiny six year old or something?” 

He only rested a moment before he was up again, digging a hole in front of the entrance. Jim felt like he was going to collapse and waves of nausea kept sweeping through him. At this rate, the other kids wouldn’t even have to kill him. He was just going to drop dead. Finally, the hole was big enough and Jim went to a bush a few meters away and started to dig it up. This was the camouflage. This would block the cave opening unless someone was right up on it, and why would they be? It was just a hill. If the cave wasn’t there, there wouldn’t even be space to hide behind the bush- not where Jim was going to plant it. 

It was more work than he thought it would be. He had to use a rock to cut its roots because they went deep. It was a large bush, so he should have known but he’d been too happy for the idea to cover the cave with it. He covered the hole it left and started to drag it to the cave. Its leaves were prickly and his arms were covered in red lines by the time he got it to the hole he’d dug. He patted the dirt in haphazardly because he was beginning to feel faint. He glanced just to make sure it looked alright before crawling behind it into the cave. He collapsed next to the Vulcan. He needed water badly, but there was no way he could get to it, not in the state he was in. 

“We’re probably both dead now,” he said quietly. He wasn’t even sure if the Vulcan was conscious or coherent. “Sorry. I… well, I tried anyway.” 

He was mumbling by the end of his sentence and not completely certain he’d gotten it all out, but he was asleep moments later. Between the lack of nourishment, the physical exertion, and the horrible decision to sleep in a tree, Jim was exhausted. He didn’t know how long he was out, but he was startled awake by the Vulcan. Jim covered his mouth to muffle the cough that had irritated its way into his dry throat when he’d been so suddenly awoken. The Vulcan reached for him and Jim scooted back until he hit the wall. The cave was only about a two meter square, so there was really nowhere to run. He was only sort of comforted by the way the Vulcan drew back at Jim’s reaction. 

“I have no intent to hurt you,” the Vulcan informed him. “It seems you have saved my life.” 

“I guess that makes us even,” Jim replied warily. “No reason for you to spare my life. Logically, my death raises your odds of survival.” 

“Your reasoning is sound, but you forget that there is an alliance of five. One being alone is unlikely to survive against such odds.” 

Jim wasn’t about to argue that he should be killed, but he had seen the Vulcan kill someone already. “And you want to ally with me? Why?” 

The Vulcan raised an eyebrow. “You express doubt… because of your size? It is true that in a show of brute force, you would not likely triumph, but this is a trial involving more than that. You have turned a trap into a safe haven.” He gestured to the bush Jim had relocated. 

Jim nodded slowly. “Still, there are five of them.” 

“So, how do we decrease that number? Can we draw them away from each other somehow?” 

Jim shrugged. He felt foggy and tired. Now that the adrenaline had faded, the fog descended on his brain and then down his back and into his limbs. “Probably,” he murmured. 

The Vulcan reached for him again and this time Jim did not pull away as his forehead was felt and then his pulse. “When was the last time you have had anything to eat or drink?” 

“Before they locked us in.” 

The Vulcan looked almost concerned. “You are severely dehydrated,” he stated and paused to think. “Stay here. Rest. I will find something to bring you back to a level of adequate function.” 

With that, he slipped out of the cave and Jim tried to listen, but the fog was too heavy and he let his eyes close. It wasn’t until he was woken by moisture on his lips that he realized how bad he was. It was some kind of fruit, melon maybe. He tried to reach for it, but his arms were numb. “Just eat,” the Vulcan said, so Jim did. His stomach felt blissfully full and he didn’t want to stop. The moisture made him painfully aware of just how thirsty he was. He needed more, but there was no room for anything else in his belly. “Rest. There is more when you are ready.” 

Jim nodded and leaned against the wall of the cave. “Where did you find it?” 

“There are clues. If you look up past the trees, you can see markers on the dome.” 

“Dome,” Jim echoed. He should have realized when he found the edge of the course that they might not even be outdoors. “Are we inside?” 

“Yes,” the Vulcan nodded. “The sunlight we are seeing is artificial. It is possible that they are also manipulating our days to be shorter so that we experience more urgency.” 

“More urgency,” Jim shook his head. “As if life and death isn’t urgent enough.” 

“I think we have performed admirably so far,” the Vulcan stated in that same calm voice he always used. Jim thought it should be unnerving, but it wasn’t. Maybe it just wasn’t anymore. 

“Could we build some kind of trap?” Jim thought aloud. “If we could lead them away, toward a trap…”

“It would need to be a very clever trap. Something they would not see, but that would be certain to catch them. Additionally, it would have to catch all or most of them and keep them. It would be better if we could find a way to lure just one.” 

“We could watch their camp and wait for one to leave.” 

“I have tried that. They never go far without each other.” 

Jim nodded as he thought some more. “Are there clues on the dome for weapons? I know how to rig a trip wire.” 

“Would you be amenable to rigging it to explosives?” the Vulcan asked. “How many of us are left?” Jim asked uncertainly. 

“It is just the seven of us,” the Vulcan replied. “You do not wish to kill more than necessary, but I do not think we can separate them.” 

“What if we split up? What if one of us leads a group to the trip wire and the other just leads them away? The sound of the explosion… They won’t want to kill us if we’re down to five, right?” 

“Your intentions, while honorable, are not the most logical path. We cannot predict whether the group of two or three will head toward the trip wire. More likely, all five will go after you and come back for me later.” 

Jim hadn’t thought of that and he had no answer for it. “There has to be another way,” he whispered. 

“If there is, I have been unable to discover it.” 

Jim looked at him with a stricken expression. “I’ll think of something. I have to.” 

“I would not object to hearing alternatives. Keep eating the fruit and rest. We will wait to take action until tomorrow. We should be safe here until then.” 

Jim nodded and sank into thought, running scenario after scenario as he grabbed another piece of fruit and began to eat it slowly. He was really too full to eat anymore, but he held each bite in his mouth and savored it, sucking on the water of it. Somehow, he managed to fit it all in his stomach without coming up with a plan but he was tired. The Vulcan was sitting with his eyes closed, meditating maybe. Jim shut his eyes and scooted down until he was curled up on the floor. Considering how afraid he’d been when he woke up, it was strange to feel safe in the older boy’s presence. Jim knew he should worry about leaving himself vulnerable, but he just wasn’t. He believed the Vulcan, and the logic he employed in his case didn’t hurt either. Still, it was a gut feeling that Jim had. 

“I don’t want to kill anyone,” Jim murmured. 

“I understand.” 

It wasn’t a concession, but at least it wasn’t a lie. 


	8. Chapter 8

_So much for not intentionally avoiding me, huh?_

Jim stared at the message on his PADD. He hadn’t seen Hel around school for two full days. He contemplated not responding, but he couldn’t just ignore her. _I can’t hang out anymore. They put me in harder classes and they’re watching my grades. My mom gets daily updates from the school._

_So what?_

_So, I can’t just skip class or homework anymore. I have to actually work._

_Well, it’s the weekend. Come over._

_I can’t._

_Please, Jim._

_I can’t, okay?_

She didn’t reply again and Jim felt awful but relieved that she’d taken no for an answer this time. They were awful for each other and he felt sick just thinking about the last time they were together. It took him until halfway through his last class to get his head back on straight so that he could focus on his schoolwork. Jim was actually starting to feel like he could be normal again someday now that he was getting into a routine. He wasn’t there yet, probably wouldn’t be for a while, but it felt possible now. He hated that the adults in his life had done something right. He hated the way they all wanted to save him. Jim saved other people. He didn’t deserve to be saved in return. 

So when he had an incoming call from Hel, he had to answer it. “Look, I kn-“ He stopped talking when the face of a grown man looked back at him. “Who the hell are you?” 

“Who are you,” he said in a deadly voice, “and why are you messaging my daughter?” 

Shit. Jim’s brain started slewing profanity across the inside of his skull as rational thoughts ducked for cover. “Jim?” 

“Well, Jim, I don’t know what you did to her-“

“Wait- what?” 

“-but you better get your stupid goody-two-shoes ass to the medical center right now and fix it.” 

Jim felt hot terror fill him. “Medical center?” 

“The one on Main Street? Yeah, get down here or I will hunt you down and drag you here.” 

“What happened?” 

The screen went dark as the call ended and Jim just stared at it motionlessly as he tried to process what was happening. Finally, as if on autopilot, he got up and put his shoes on before heading downstairs. 

His mother was unfortunately in sight of his path to the door. “Jim, are you done your school work? You just got home. You can’t possibly-“

“My friend is in the medical center. I think it’s bad. I just got a call from her dad.” 

It felt weird to call her his friend, but she wasn’t more than that and he definitely couldn’t say she was less than that. His mother looked horrified and she stood immediately. “I’ll take you.” 

Jim didn’t reply. He’d felt hopeful earlier, but now he felt it evanescing. Hel was one more person he’d failed to save. His mother wouldn’t leave his side once they were there, which made it even worse when Hel’s father immediately charged them and jabbed his finger into Jim’s chest, “You think you can rape my baby girl and get away with it?” 

“Now you just hold on a second,” his mother interrupted and Jim felt himself shrink even smaller. 

“Hold on? I find my daughter bleeding out on the floor and they’re telling me she’s got signs of sexual violence and you want me to hold on?” 

“My son wouldn’t hurt a fly.” 

Jim stared at the floor. He was spiraling again. Sexual violence. Had he been so high, hurt her so badly that they could still tell almost a week later? And his mother thought he couldn’t hurt a fly? He’d murdered people. Murdered _kids_. 

“He’s the only person she’s been talking to, so I don’t know who else it would be.” 

“I didn’t mean to hurt her,” he whispered and his mother actually stumbled back half a step. “We were high… She gets these pills, I don’t know what they are…”

Hel’s dad actually lunged at him and grabbed him by the throat, swinging him so that he was pinned to the wall. No demands came, no questions. He just wanted Jim dead. There was no negotiating his way out of this, and he didn’t want to anyway. Jim stopped moving, stopped struggling. He could see his mother pulling at the man’s arm and he just shut his eyes. He didn’t want to see his mother right now, especially not if she were to look at him knowing what she now knew. That wasn’t going to be the last thing he took with him. 

Except it wasn’t his last moment. His mother actually managed to get him free and pinned the adult to the floor with his hands behind him. Jim coughed painfully as he gasped in air and the actual security guards arrived to apprehend Hel’s dad. Jim didn’t get up. 

“Jim?” 

His mother was crouched in front of him. He looked to the side. 

“Jim, please look at me. I know you wouldn’t hurt anyone on purpose. I just need to make sure you’re okay. Alright? Jim?” 

He couldn’t help it. The anger was rising and he looked at her with flames in his eyes. His voice was raspy and painful, but he spoke anyway. “You keep saying you’re so certain I could never hurt anyone, but I have.” 

“Jim, you are a good-“

“And it was on purpose, okay? I killed nine people. So stop treating me like I’m some weak broken thing that you need to save. I’m not worth it.” 

“Jim…”

The shock of his confession had stunned her just long enough that he could get away. She didn’t know what to do with him and that was about the only thing they had in common anymore besides a last name. He didn’t get very far as two police officers stopped him. He didn’t even have it in him to be upset. Even before he’d managed to hurt Hel, he deserved to go to prison and he couldn’t understand why they hadn’t punished him. Maybe some good old fashioned incarceration would help ease his conscience. Jim knew better, but he could hope. 

He avoided his mother’s gaze as he was escorted back past the waiting area and into an office. He hated how much time he was spending in offices. He searched for his anger but all he felt was a deep terror masked by shock and numbness. 

“Where were you last night, son?” asked the officer without so much as an introduction. 

Jim stared at his knees. “Home, doing schoolwork.” 

“Speak up.” 

Jim lifted his face, but couldn’t meet the man’s eyes. Instead, he stared at the worn hands that held a file labeled Helen Ferreira. He wore a Starfleet ring that probably fit better a decade or two ago and Jim was transfixed, thinking about how he hadn’t known Hel’s full name. They’d had sex and he didn’t even know her first name. “Mr. Kirk?” 

“Sorry, um. I was… I was at home.” 

“And the night before that?” 

“At home,” Jim repeated. “The thing… I… The last time I was with Hel was a little less than a week ago.” 

His face was on fire and he wanted to cry in shame. “Can anyone vouch for your whereabouts?” 

Jim nodded. “I’ve been… not grounded, but kind of grounded. I mean, no one was in my room with me, but I was working on school work. My PADD should show my location.” 

“So you didn’t see Miss Ferreira in the past three days?” The officer’s gaze was burning holes in Jim’s forehead as he shook his head no. “Do you know if she was seeing anyone?” 

Jim shrugged. “She and I were kind of… um. But we had a, um. A fight, I guess. Did I hurt her?” 

The officer didn’t reply immediately. Jim felt like his heart was going to explode in the three seconds before the man said, “We’ll contact you if we have any further questions. Don’t leave town.” 

He stood, so Jim did too but he didn’t leave yet. It felt almost physically painful, but he lifted his eyes to the officer’s. “Is she going to be okay?” 

“Probably. I’ll have the nurse let her know you’re here, but she’s under watch and under no obligation to see you or anyone else.” 

Jim nodded, lowering his gaze again. “Thank you, sir.” 

He was let out of the office and his mother descended on him almost immediately. He shrugged off her hand and went to sit down. He knew she wouldn’t want to see him, but he needed to know she was going to be okay. His mother had finally gotten the hint and just sat with him, not speaking or trying to comfort him. He appreciated that more than anything anyone had done for him so far. 

Jim hadn’t been sure if they’d tell him one way or the other, but he could tell when she’d woken up because two officers went into her room, one opening up a note on a PADD and the other carrying the same file he’d seen in the office. The only difference was that both of these officers were female. Jim immediately figured out why and he felt sick again. Had he… had he raped her? 

The deep terror he’d been feeling since Hel’s father called him was finally rising, filling his lungs, making it hard to breathe. This time he didn’t shake off his mother’s hand. She was in front of him suddenly, saying his name. “Jim, breathe. With me. In, out.” Her exaggerated breathing wasn’t helping. He couldn’t follow it if he wanted to and he was getting dizzy. Shaking his head, Jim shut his eyes. Passing out would be fine. If he was unconscious, he didn’t have to feel anything. If he were dead, he couldn’t hurt anyone else. 

His eyes shot open at that thought. He’d never had thoughts that bad before. Jim didn’t know why he’d never spiraled that far down either. He’d gotten so used to his promise to Thomas that it hadn’t crossed his mind. Everything he’d done had been a desperate grapple for survival, and why? Calm descended on him finally and he managed to get some air. It would break his mother, but at least it would be a clean break. It seemed like everything he did now broke her again and again. The way she was staring at him now was something he didn’t want to keep causing over and over, again and again. 

Then again, he had made a promise. Even if Thomas couldn’t love him like a brother, Jim had promised him. Jim didn’t break promises even to people who’d broken his heart. He remembered the letter he’d been promised. It was just one session, right? He didn’t even have to talk. He just had to survive, what? An hour? He could do that. Maybe Thomas had written to say he didn’t care or that he wouldn’t hold Jim to it. Maybe he’d written to say it had been a lie, that they were brothers no matter what their DNA said. Jim banished that thought as quickly as it came. He didn’t need to waste his energy hoping for something that wouldn’t happen. Thomas hated him. 

“Jim?” 

His mother actually sounded afraid of him. 

“The doctor you sent to see me. I’ll see her.” 

His mother only looked confused. “Jim, I didn’t… But if you want to see someone, I’ll set something up. There’s a great-“

“No, she said… She said you had her card.” He hoped she still had it. 

“Do you remember her name?” 

Jim shook his head. “She said she had a letter for me.” 

“What kind of letter?” 

Jim pressed his lips together. He didn’t want to admit to wanting it. The more he thought about it, the more Jim realized he _needed_ it. “It’s just a letter,” he mumbled. 

“Okay,” she conceded. She must have been happy to get anything out of him at all if she was willing to let it go and stop pushing. Jim hated her for being so acquiescent, but he probably would have hated it more if she’d kept pushing. He was beginning to realize that he hated everything adults did to try to help him, no matter what it was. He didn’t want help. He just wanted it all to go away. 

“She’s not going to want to see me,” he said. “But it’s obvious she’s awake now, so we can… we can go.” 

His mother hesitated and Jim knew she wanted to say _Why don’t we wait and see?_ but instead she just nodded and followed his lead as he stood to go. 

They were literally standing in the open doors when someone called, “Mr. Kirk!” 

Jim stiffened immediately, sure he was about to be arrested. Turning, resigned to his fate, Jim subconsciously held his wrists forward as if they already had cuffs out but they didn’t. One of the female officers caught up with them and Jim looked at her ear instead of her eyes. “Should I tell Miss Ferreira that you had to leave?” 

“Uh…”

“She asked to see you.” 

“Oh.” 

Jim stood there stupidly for a moment before his mother nudged him. His face contorted in annoyance for a fraction of a second. “Sorry, yeah. I mean, no. I just… assumed she wouldn’t want to see me.” 

“Then why did you wait all this time?” 

Jim shrugged. “You’re sure she wants to see me?” 

“You’re the only visitor she’s agreed to.” 

“Oh.” 

Jim didn’t know what to make of that. Was she planning to kill him once they were alone? Whatever she wanted, he was going to let her have it. 

He followed the officer toward the rooms and tried to mentally prepare himself for what was behind the door. 


	9. Chapter 9

Maybe Jim was getting used to uncomfortable sleeping positions. Maybe he was just so tired it didn’t matter, but even sleeping on the hard dirt floor of their cave left him feeling refreshed. Between the fruit and the sleep, he felt capable of almost anything. The Vulcan had been sitting in that same meditative position that he’d been in when Jim went to sleep, but his eyes opened as Jim shifted. 

“Better?” asked the older boy. 

Jim blinked slowly and stretched. “Much better. Thanks to you.” 

“Thanks are unnecessary. Neither of us is of any use dead.” 

Jim probably should have felt something at the reminder that some kids were dead and more would be soon, but somehow he’d managed to shut off that part of his brain. He was rested now, calm, collected. He’d gone to bed with the idea that they were going to kill two (hopefully not more) of their classmates. Now that he’d slept on it, he’d accepted it. He wasn’t happy about it, not by a long shot, but the reality was that two more kids had to die and Jim had promised not to let it be him. He wasn’t about to kill the Vulcan who’d saved his life and helped him with their original plan to escape. 

“It’s probably not worth trying to convince the five to join forces and overthrow the guards.” 

“We would be unable to defeat them with our numbers as small as they are.” 

“I know.” 

“There is also no way to open the doors from inside the course. It is possible that, if the seven of us agreed to a truce, they might open them. It is also possible that they would just let the seven of us starve to death.” 

Jim nodded. “So, what do you think we should do, Vulcan?” 

“It is pointless to ask a question to which you already know the answer, Human.” 

Jim grinned. He didn’t think it would be possible for someone without emotions to joke around with him, but clearly he’d been mistaken. There was a knowing look in his eyes like he was making fun of Jim. “Okay, so we definitely need to set up two trip wires. We don’t know who they’re going to follow, and we need to run in different directions.” 

The Vulcan nodded. “We will also need to establish them in an area where we can quickly access adequate cover from the blast.” 

Jim nodded. “So, one near the cave-“

“The cave is ill-advised. A blast could cause a cave-in.” 

“Okay, so not the cave…”

The Vulcan stared at him intently as if he already knew the answer and was waiting for Jim to discover it on his own. So Jim narrowed his eyes and stared back until he saw an eyebrow go up. Jim smirked. “Is there something… wrong?” 

“No,” Jim said. “You just have a habit of staring really intensely.” 

“I apologize if I make you uncomfortable,” the Vulcan said uncertainly. 

Jim chuckled a little. The close quarters somehow made him feel more at ease. It was nice, being in a small space. It felt safe- not like the open, keep an eye on every direction woods. It shouldn’t feel safe, but with two of them it did. 

“I’m not uncomfortable. Honestly, this is the most comfortable I’ve felt since… this whole thing started.” 

“Well. Good.” 

Jim shouldn’t get such a kick out of throwing the Vulcan off, but he did. He was beginning to see that there was something under that calm, emotionless exterior. Even if it wasn’t emotion, it was something familiar. It was comforting to know that even the calmest of them was still uncertain about some things. “How old are you?” Jim asked. 

It actually took the Vulcan a moment to think. “Sixteen.” 

“I’m thirteen,” Jim replied reflexively, but he wasn’t thinking about his own answer. “Why did you have to think about it?” 

“Vulcans do not celebrate our days of birth the way that humans do.” 

“So, what? You were doing math?” 

The Vulcan actually smiled a little. “Perhaps.” 

Jim relaxed against the wall. “When is your birthday? Maybe I should check your math.” 

“I was born in 2230, but I assure you there is no need to ‘check my math.’” 

Jim lit up and leaned forward excitedly. “No, I was asking for your birthday! We are absolutely going to throw you one. You can share mine if you have to.” 

“Throw me one?” the Vulcan echoed in bemusement. 

“A party. A birthday party. Jesus, you have a lot to learn.” 

That eyebrow went up again and Jim just giggled. He grabbed the last two pieces of fruit and held one to the Vulcan. “Come on. Breakfast and then bombs.” 

Jim bit into his as the Vulcan reluctantly accepted. “I was under the impression that you were not looking forward to this plan.” 

With his mouth full of food, Jim said, “Humans do this thing where we pretend we want to do something when we don’t. Makes it easier.” 

“The difficulty of a task remains the same whether you wish to complete it or not.” 

“It’s a motivation thing,” Jim shrugged. “I guess it doesn’t apply to Vulcans, but feeling negative about something makes it harder to do. And feeling good about something makes you want to jump right in.” 

The Vulcan thought about that for a moment, and Jim took it to mean he was taking a moment to understand the concept of emotion before he took a bite of the fruit Jim had given him. Jim finished and licked the juice from his fingers, not wanting to waste a single drop. He stood up and started to stretch the soreness from his muscles as his friend finished eating. Jim peeked around the bush he’d relocated. “Well, if they’re looking for us, they’re looking in the wrong place.” 

He drew back and crouched down, not wanting to sit again. “I turned left instead of going straight. I figure that had to buy us at least a little time, right?” 

The Vulcan nodded. “They will surely focus their search in the direction they last saw you headed.” 

“Hopefully that’s not the direction of our bomb ingredients. I don’t think either of us is ready to run into them.” 

The older boy nodded once in agreement as he followed Jim’s lead in licking the juice from his hands. Jim turned away to hide his smirk. He liked knowing the Vulcan was an even messier eater than Jim was. He joined Jim at the entrance and they looked out from opposite sides of the bush before wordlessly stepping out. Jim followed as they searched for a clear view of the sky. Or the ceiling, rather. They finally found it and Jim had no idea what he was looking at. “How exactly-?”

“There is writing in the clouds.” 

Jim just stared cluelessly. “I mean, maybe, but it’s not anything I recognize.” 

“It is a dialect of Vulcan used mostly in our historical texts.” 

“Oh,” Jim replied. He tried to sound like he wasn’t completely lost, but how were they supposed to understand the writing, let alone notice it? “I have to admit, I don’t really know… anything… about Vulcan.” 

“I believe the standard curriculum puts Vulcan history and culture in your next year of study.” 

“Oh.” Jim felt a little better at that. He always felt like a jerk for not knowing someone else’s customs. He liked the idea of being a chameleon, of being able to seamlessly interact with anyone and everyone he came into contact with. He already spoke four languages, not that anyone would know that about him. Once this was over, he decided to learn Vulcan. “So how hard is it to learn Vulcan?” 

“For a human, I surmise it would be quite difficult. There are many sounds in the Vulcan language that never appear in English. As I understand it, humans learn to speak by forgetting the sounds they do not use. This forgetting is so complete that you would not even be able to hear the difference between a sound you do not know and one that you do.” 

“Well… better late than never?” 

“Writing and reading may be more attainable. Later, I will show you the symbols they have used to denote the location of supplies.” 

“Thanks,” Jim beamed. Suddenly they were off in the direction of something Jim would hopefully later understand. Every now and then, his Vulcan companion would stop to look at the sky to make sure they were headed in the right direction until finally he stopped. 

They both looked up to see the explosives hidden up in a tree. There were no low branches to help climb, and it was too far from the other trees to simply jump into it. “Don’t make it easy, do they?” he remarked. 

The Vulcan was already surveying the area, and Jim got the distinct impression he was doing some kind of math. He reached a bit even though there was no way he could possibly reach, though he was only about a meter short. Then, he began to backtrack. “Whoa, we can’t just give up-“

“I am not giving up, Human,“ he replied in a matter-of-fact tone of voice. “Wait there.” 

Jim did as requested and began to feel a bit twitchy. The Vulcan was out of ear shot and Jim was alone, in the wide open space of trees. He glanced over his shoulders periodically until he finally heard someone approaching. His heart was hammering in his chest before the dark hair of his friend became visible. He was hunched over, carrying… a very heavy looking rock. Jim didn’t know how to help, so he just stood out of the way as his friend deposited it at the base of the tree. Standing on the rock, he reached again and seemed pleased. Jim couldn’t understand why, since he was only able to barely brush the branch they needed. 

The Vulcan stepped off the rock and knelt down. “Get on my shoulders.” 

“Your-?”

“If you get on my shoulders, you should be just high enough to grab the branch. Then, I can boost you the rest of the distance.” 

Feeling odd, Jim decided not to argue. He didn’t have any better ideas, though he didn’t really want to climb on the Vulcan’s shoulders. In the light, it was much easier to see his injuries and Jim wasn’t sure if they were all on the surface. Still, the older boy knew his limits, right? “You would tell me if you were more hurt than you looked, right?” 

“I am functioning adequately.” 

Somehow that did not reassure Jim. The Vulcan must have sensed this as he offered, “The discomfort of this solution will be minimal. The discomfort of remaining in this cage will be greater as time passes.” 

“Okay.” 

It was clear he wasn’t going to win this argument, so Jim climbed awkwardly over the Vulcan’s back and onto his shoulders. He was embarrassed to let out a giggle as they rose quickly. The sudden shift in gravity made his stomach swoop and he nearly lost his balance. “Here.” The older boy belatedly offered him a hand as he used the other to steady himself against the tree. As soon as Jim took the hand, the Vulcan stepped onto the large rock, slowly this time to compensate for the extra top heaviness. 

Jim released the hand and reached. His fingertips brushed the top of the branch, but he couldn’t get a grip. “Stand on your toes!” he ordered and that did it. Jim grabbed the branch easily and swung his legs up so that he was hanging like a sloth. With a bit of struggle (and no extra boost, thank you very much), Jim managed to right himself. He rested for a brief moment before finagling his way to a standing position. He could reach the explosives easily now and began working on the knot in the rope holding them to the tree. “We make a good team,” he called down. 

“We do indeed,” agreed the Vulcan. 

Jim grinned, his embarrassing giggle already forgotten in the excitement of triumph. His fingers weren’t as deft as usual, so it took about five minutes to get the knot undone. He carefully balanced the box as he sat on the lower branch. It was a slow and nerve-wracking process. Jim wasn’t sure when, but he was certain he wasn’t going to manage without falling out of the tree. 

Glancing between the box and the Vulcan down on the ground, Jim sighed. “Hang on.” 

He grabbed the rope and fashioned a sort-of handle on the box, which he wrapped around one of his feet. Carefully, he lowered his foot and tried to ignore the painful weight of the rope crushing his ankle. These were explosives. They couldn’t just be dropped onto the ground. The Vulcan seemed to automatically assume Jim was in pain and freed his ankle quickly. Jim rubbed his ankle for a moment to get the blood back into his foot before reassuming his sloth position and dropping down. He stumbled, but he was fine. 

The Vulcan already had the box open. “I am uncertain how powerful the blast will be if we divide this into two bombs.” 

“What do you mean?” Jim asked. 

“Two people need to die,” he reminded Jim. “Half of this explosive will only kill someone who is right on it. I estimate anyone as far as two meters away will only sustain severe injuries. This will make them easier to kill, but it is also much more cruel.” 

Jim swallowed and nodded. He hadn’t liked the idea of killing at all, but letting one of them sustain severe burns? Suffering? That made him wish for a new plan entirely. 


	10. Chapter 10

Jim knew he was pale as he entered the hospital room. He hated small spaces. Even with people with him, he couldn’t help but feel trapped and anxious. In fact, having the officers with him made him feel even more trapped. He forced himself to look at Hel. Except for the hospital gown print covering her shoulders and the lack of makeup, she didn’t look very different. She had the blanket covering most of her and as he shivered a little, he couldn’t blame her. 

“Hi,” he said awkwardly, not knowing what to do with himself. 

She smiled a little. “Hey.” 

He took a step closer and that seemed to be the right thing to do. She looked past him to the officers and said, “Can we have a minute?” 

Apparently Jim wasn’t as much of a threat as he thought he was, because they walked out and even let the door swoosh closed behind them. He didn’t know what to say, so he said one of the only two things he’d been thinking since he got there: “I’m glad you’re okay.” 

It wasn’t lost on him that she didn’t agree with him. “I’m glad you’re here.” 

He couldn’t stop himself from saying the other thing he’d been thinking. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you, I thought…”

“Hurt me?” she echoed. “Jim… what are you talking about?” 

“They said… I mean, it’s not… They said you’d been… hurt.” 

He couldn’t even say the word. She just gave him an incredulous look. “Jim, I did this to myself.” 

If that wasn’t a metaphysical punch to the gut, Jim didn’t know what was. “I mean… by someone else.” 

“Wait, what?” she said and looked upset now. 

“Your, um. Your dad. He said I r-“ but he still couldn’t get it out. “I wasn’t thinking straight, and we were high, and I don’t remember much except that I was upset and I know I wasn’t gentle.” 

Jim pressed his palms into his thighs. They were sweaty and he had too much nervous tension to function. 

“Wait, you think you…? Jim, no. No. I liked that. I like you.” 

“Then why did you…?”

He couldn’t bring himself to say that either. She stared at her hands under the blanket with a bittersweet smile. “Jim, I don’t think it’s a leap to assume I’m not a happy person.” 

“I’m sorry,” he said again, because he couldn’t help but feel like he’d made everything worse. 

“I’m not a… I try not to be a clingy person. You’re the closest thing I have to a friend, Jim. And I’m not saying that to make you feel guilty. I just… It’s the only way I know how to explain. I’m alone all the time and… I don’t see that changing.” 

“Maybe if you actually went to school or talked to people…”

“None of them are interesting, are you kidding?” she laughed. “I’m not interested in goody-two-shoes teachers’ pets who talk about homework all the time. Big picture, none of that matters.” 

“So what does?” Jim pressed. He had a feeling she was going to say nothing mattered, and in a way she did. She said nothing and just shrugged awkwardly. Jim bit the inside of his cheek. “Hel, if it wasn’t me…”

“You matter,” she interrupted. “To me at least. You matter to me.” 

Jim wasn’t prepared for a conversation like this and neither was she. He hated himself because he was turning into those adults who wanted to save him. He wanted to save Hel and he wasn’t even sure what was threatening her. “Hel, they said you were r-raped.” 

She shrank immeasurably and couldn’t look at him. “I wanted you, Jim. That wasn’t rape.” 

“Then why do they think-?”

“Look, it wasn’t you, okay?” 

Jim shifted uncomfortably. “Was it someone?” 

Her silence was answer enough. Jim wanted to reach for her, but she looked like she wanted to get away from him. He shouldn’t push. He knew he shouldn’t, but what if it happened again? What if it was someone at the club? She had clearly been there without Jim before, and probably would go again. “Hel, I just… If you won’t tell me, will you tell the officers?” 

“It’s not a big deal,” she said quietly. 

“Hel, if someone… It’s a big deal. You can’t just let someone-“

“Get out.” 

“Hel.” 

“If you think I let someone-“

“Hel, Jesus, no. That’s not what I meant. I was going to say let them get away with it. You can’t. What if they hurt you again? Or someone else? I don’t want to see you hurt. I know we’re not actually together or anything, but I care about you. A lot.” 

“He’s not going to hurt anyone else,” she insisted. 

“Well, it’s not okay if he hurts you, if that’s what you’re implying.” 

“I can handle it, Jim.” 

He opened his mouth in shock. “Well, obviously you can’t if you tried to kill yourself!” 

She glared at nothing at those words. “I tried to kill myself because I was alone, Jim. I guess you’re just another teacher’s pet who doesn’t get it.” 

“What does that even mean, Hel?” 

“I needed you, and you weren’t there. You ‘just can’t?’ What does _that_ mean?” 

Jim couldn’t speak. This was his fault. He’d known it from the beginning. He’d pushed her into it. Apparently what he’d done was worse than rape. He wanted to run or scream but that would only be doing the same thing that had landed her here in the first place. “It means I can’t, Hel. I can’t do this, I can’t get close to you. Or anyone. You don’t want to be around me, trust me. I’m garbage.” 

“I don’t believe that.” 

“So, what? I’m some kind of saint? Apparently I pushed you into this, so-“

“That’s not what I said.” 

“No, you know what? I care about you and I want you to be okay, but you don’t listen. I didn’t want to do what we did the other day. I’m not a happy person either, Hel. Or did you think the boy following you around and drinking and doing drugs without asking any questions was all sunshine and rainbows?” 

“If you didn’t want to, then why did you agree?” 

“Because I felt like I owed you something, Hel. Because, no matter how much I try not to, I care about you. So… if you want me to help, I’ll help. But I can’t be with you anymore.” 

She didn’t answer and he had a feeling he’d broken her all over again until she said, “I can’t tell them.” 

“So tell me.” 

“I can’t tell you either.” 

He sighed. “Then tell me how to help, Hel.” 

She shrugged. “You can’t.” 

“I don’t accept that,” Jim grimaced. “If it was someone at the club, I can go with you. If it’s school, you can get a transfer…”

“It’s not that.” 

“Then what is it?” 

She clammed up again and Jim ignored every impulse he had as he finally approached her bed side and put a hand on her shoulder. “Hel… I can protect you. Or the cops can. But not if you can’t say what you need protection from.” 

She gave him the worst look he’d ever seen. It was like watching someone fall apart. “Stay with me.” 

“Okay.” 

“I’ll tell them, but please… stay with me.” 

“I will,” he promised. 

“After, too? We don’t have to talk, I just… I can’t be alone right now.” 

Jim nodded and so did she. He swallowed and the pain reminded him of the fight earlier. Suddenly everything clicked into place. His eyes widened. “Was it- was it your dad?” 

She looked startled and didn’t immediately deny it, which was all the confirmation he needed. It took everything he had to just get the officers and not leave to go after the man. Jim could take a fight. He could win one too, but he couldn’t abide people he cared about being hurt. He stood silently and kept his face stony as she told the officers in halting sentences what had happened and how long it had been going on. They asked questions that took too much effort for her to answer. On some level, Jim felt like he was being interrogated as well. The questions about the types of touch and how she responded made his skin crawl with memories he’d tried too hard to be rid of. 

Finally, they seemed to have enough information and assured her that there would be a guard outside her door at all hours and that no one would be allowed in without her say-so. Jim was pretty sure her dad was about to be arrested as well. 

“You okay?” 

He was startled to hear her ask him that. “Yeah, of course.” 

She reached a hand up and out of the blanket and held it out for him to take. Of all the things that could have broken him, it was this. The medics had expertly healed her arm, but he could see the scar, could picture her trying to kill herself, and he was overwhelmed with memories of Ty. “Jim?” 

His two choices were now to run away and break his promise or to fall apart and completely break down in front of her and neither was an option. “I’m sorry. I told you I was garbage,” he mumbled just before he ran. She was upset as she called after him, but he was too far gone. It felt like his heart was being ripped out, shoved back in, ripped out, shoved back in, over and over, killing him in an endless cycle. 

His mother caught up with him outside and wrapped her arms around him. He struggled to get free as the tears started, but she held fast and refused to let him go. Tears turned into sobs and whimpers as he stopped struggling and hugged her back. She thought he was upset over Hel and that was fine. Jim didn’t have the capacity to worry about what she was thinking because he was too busy crying the tears he’d kept safely locked away. He thought he’d left them on Tarsus IV, but apparently they had just lain dormant. Ty had been a part of Jim, and the only one to admit to feeling like Jim was a part of him as well. It was like losing a limb. Maybe two. Maybe all four along with his head and torso until nothing was left but a cloud of pain. 

Jim didn’t know how long he cried or when he and his mother had managed to sit down on a bench, but he only managed to stop because he was too tired to cry anymore. “Can we go home?” he asked quietly. 

She hugged him a little tighter and led him to their transport without asking any questions. 


	11. Chapter 11

“I think the only thing for it is I’ve got to lead them away. Alone.” 

“That is an unacceptable risk.” 

“We know they’re going to chase me. I’m smaller and weaker. There’s no reason to have you pretend they are going to follow you.” 

The Vulcan seemed determined to ignore logic and Jim didn’t know what to make of that. “They must kill the both of us, so they might just as likely all go after me.” 

“Yeah, eventually they have to, but I’m going to be a lot harder to find.” 

“I disagree. Your human needs are far more prescient than my Vulcan ones. I can last several more days than you can without sustenance.” 

Jim rolled his eyes. “Either way, they’re camped out on the water source, so they can outlast either of us. I’m the better bait. I’m easier to take out. We’ll send them after me.” 

“What if you are caught?” 

“I won’t be.” 

“You are malnourished and sleep deprived. This is unfamiliar terrain with plenty of things over which you might trip.” 

Jim smirked. “Are you worried about me, Vulcan?” 

“You are the most remarkable human I have yet to meet. I find you fascinating and it would be less than ideal for you to die.” 

“You can say it. You can say I’m your friend,” Jim teased. 

“Very well. You are my friend and I would be most dismayed were something to happen to you.” 

Jim’s smirk softened into a smile. “And I like you too, big guy.” He clapped the older boy on the shoulder, causing him to look more confused than he was before. Jim only shook his head fondly as he returned to pulling the trip wire taught and securing it. “If you don’t get that bomb finished, it’s going to be a moot point who lures them out.” 

The Vulcan opened his mouth as if to express confusion before nodding and returning to his half of the trap. “You have a habit of saying one thing and meaning another,” his friend observed without looking up. 

“What?” 

“You use derision as a form of fondness.” 

“You use unnecessarily big words and no contractions,” Jim threw back. 

“You have no issues understanding me.” It wasn’t a question. 

Jim thought about that for a moment. “Do you have issues understanding me?” 

“I am getting better at it,” the Vulcan replied. “The idea of sarcasm is familiar to me, but I do not see it employed very often.” 

Jim snorted. “I can’t imagine why.” 

“It is because Vulcans-“

“Relax, I understood.” 

The Vulcan looked up and then back down. “Sarcasm.” 

Jim grinned as he finished the trip wire. “Sarcasm,” he agreed. He sat down properly now that he was finished and watched his friend work. “You know, at first I thought you didn’t make faces, but I can kind of see them now. It’s subtle. Like your eyebrows are the most expressive part-“ and one shot up as Jim mentioned them- “but sometimes your mouth moves too. You smile and it’s weird, but kind of reassuring. Is that intentional?” 

Any semblance of smile left and his face went blank and unreadable. He looked Jim in the eye. “You seem to be under the impression that Vulcans experience no emotion, when it is true that we only show no emotion.” 

“You do show emotion, though.” 

“I am young and have spent a great deal of time around humans.” 

“Are your parents here?” Jim asked quietly. 

The Vulcan shook his head. “They are both on Vulcan. I asked to study here because of the unique opportunity to watch a colony develop into a culture.” 

“Oh.” 

Jim didn’t have much to offer. He mentally shrugged and decided to go all in. “I was sent here as a punishment for driving my uncle’s car off a cliff.” 

The Vulcan gave him that same look that Jim was beginning to understand meant he was being _fascinating_ again. “You appear rather healthy for someone who drove off a cliff. I have not heard of a car which flies.” 

“I jumped at the last second. I usually call him ‘Asshole,’ but I didn’t think that would translate as well as ‘my uncle.’” 

“Why do you call him that?” 

Jim shrugged. “Because he is.” 

The Vulcan was focused entirely on Jim now and he felt squirmy. “Does he treat your mother poorly?” 

“No, he’s her brother, she loves him like crazy.” 

“Does he treat you poorly?” 

Jim stood up with an angry sigh. “He’s just an asshole, okay? It has nothing to do with… whatever.” 

The Vulcan closed his mouth and appeared deep in thought which was worse than pushing for more answers. Apparently Jim had somehow managed to answer without meaning to. The Vulcan returned to the bomb he was working on and changed the subject. “Do you like visiting other worlds? Traveling?” 

Jim thought for a moment. “I like being here. Or I did before… all this.” 

The Vulcan nodded. “Have you considered continuing to study off-world?” 

Jim shrugged. “I’m not sure if it’s worth making plans that far in the future. All things considered.” 

“You will not die on this planet,” insisted the Vulcan. “Not if it is within my power to prevent.” 

“I appreciate that, and I’m absolutely in favor of not dying, but still.” 

The Vulcan didn’t reply for a moment, and when he did speak again it was all business. “We will attach the trip wire here,” and he gestured to a loop in a wire that connected to a crude knife. “When the wire is tripped, it will drag the blade across this flint, causing sparks. I will add some kindling, dried leaves, anything that will catch the sparks, and that should do it.” 

Jim nodded. He sort of understood and was impressed with the way the Vulcan had rigged the blade so that it would scrape the flint just right no matter how the wire was pulled. Already, his compatriot was hiding the contraption beneath dead leaves that were dry enough to catch at the slightest spark. He stood when it was done and offered Jim a hand. The younger boy took it and they began to head toward the line of trees they’d decided to dig a pit behind. Before they got started, the Vulcan turned to face Jim. “It is unlikely that you would be accepted, but you might consider requesting a study on Vulcan. Violence is not tolerated on my home planet, and violence toward children is unheard of.” 

Jim felt his heart speed up at the implication and he opened his mouth to try to deny it or change the subject, but all he managed to articulate was, “Um-“

“I apologize for my bluntness, and if I have jumped to the wrong conclusion, I apologize for that as well. I only mean that you deserve a safe place and I would like to help you find one.” 

Jim blinked a little. No one had ever expressed that kind of care for him and he didn’t know what to do with it. “Thanks,” he said, his voice strangled almost to a whisper. 

His face expressionless, the Vulcan acknowledged Jim’s thanks with a nod and seemed to move on seamlessly. Jim wished he could be that detached. The Vulcan handed Jim one of the wooden sides of the box before beginning to dig with the lid. It wasn’t exactly easy, but it was much better than when Jim had had to dig a new hole for the bush with his heel and bare hands. Desperation was the only thing that got him through it. 

By the time the sun started to fade, they were both sweaty messes and their trench was only half dug. Jim wished desperately that they had access to the water source. He felt so filthy he didn’t think he’d be able to sleep. They were both too tired to talk as they returned to the cave for some sleep. Even once Jim started to dry out, he felt filthy. The salt of his sweat clung to him in a layer that he desperately wanted to scrub off. 

In spite of his worry, Jim managed to fall asleep quickly. He was tired, but he was also beginning to get used to sleeping on hard surfaces without any covering. It wasn’t ideal, and his rest was fitful, but it was still rest. Jim wasn’t sure he’d ever sleep peacefully again. 

They began digging again as soon as the sun came up. Their progress was slow since they were trying to be quiet, and Jim was fading quickly. He should have saved the fruit instead of eating it all overnight. The trench was wide enough, but it needed to be deeper and Jim’s muscles were quaking from overuse. He sat down on the edge and wiped his forehead on his sleeve. 

“Are you alright?” 

Jim blinked slowly and didn’t look up. “I just need a minute.” 

“If you are experiencing some kind of physical distress, it is best we deal with it as soon as possible.” 

“I just need to catch my breath for a second,” Jim insisted. “We’re almost done.” 

“If indeed you are going to be the one to lure our friends to the trip wire, it is imperative that you remain in top form. If you are unable to maintain a reasonable distance from them, our plan will fail.” 

“I get it, okay? We’re almost there, and I just need a second. Chill out.” 

Jim startled as the board the Vulcan was digging with actually broke. It wasn’t a clean snap, either. It splintered and actually sounded like it creaked as it split into two jagged edges. The sound of it echoed loudly around them and Jim gave his compatriot a wide-eyed look of fear. The terror was not returned, but Jim could sense a tense alertness that he decided was the Vulcan equivalent. They both remained frozen, ears and eyes straining to detect any sound or movement from their surroundings. Jim only knew he was breathing because he didn’t feel a building need for oxygen. 

After what felt like an eternity, they relaxed somewhat. The older boy grabbed the lid from the box and began to slowly deepen their trench. The ground was harder here and much more difficult to break. The deeper they went, the more rocks there were and every time Jim’s board scraped one, it sent unpleasant chills through him as if they were scraping on his spine. There was an old idiom that he was sure applied… nails on a caulk board? Talk board? He couldn’t remember. 

The trench was reaching a depth that was on the line where Jim wasn’t quite sure if they could stop or not. The choice was taken from them when they heard footsteps. Jim looked up just in time to see two boys sprinting for them, followed by the rest of the five. Jim’s heart leapt into his throat. The trench wasn’t big enough for both of them. Before he could even raise his concern, the Vulcan knocked him into the hole and landed on top of him. The older boy was watching the approach and Jim knew the moment one of them hit the wire because the Vulcan whipped his face away and pressed into the corner to try to get down further. 

No blast came. 

Hesitantly, his friend looked over the line. “It did not catch,” he whispered. In an instant, the older boy was on his feet and out of the trench, ready for a fight. Jim got up too. They weren’t going to win, but he wasn’t about to let his friend die alone. He stopped just short of actually approaching. His hip was bruising where he’d stashed the old fashioned lighter. Quickly, he grabbed the broken and splintered board. It took half a dozen clicks to get a flame and Jim’s hands were shaking so badly he almost couldn’t catch the splinters. The wood went up quickly once the thin edges caught. 

“Vulcan!” he yelled and his friend looked back at him before immediately figuring out the plan. 

Jim threw the plank from the furthest he felt sure it would hit its mark and didn’t wait to see how far it was. The dried leaves were piled around the bomb for almost a meter. He had to have gotten some of them. Jim got a face full of dirt as he planted into the ditch and didn’t care about the dull pain of another body hitting his. Seconds later, the blast finally came and then all Jim could hear was a faint ringing. 

He was in shock, vaguely aware of the Vulcan calling to him, but as they rose from their incomplete cover, Jim only had eyes for the flames and settling dust. The bomb had been bigger than the Vulcan calculated. All five of them were dead. Jim coughed and it was a weird sensation because he couldn’t hear it, not even the echo of it inside his head that he would have heard if he’d had his hands over his ears. 

The Vulcan tugged him until they were heading away from the blast and Jim eventually figured out that they were heading for the entrance. The Vulcan paused and looked at the corpses. He said something that Jim couldn’t hear, but he could read lips well enough to get the gist. They each had to carry a body back to the entrance. It was the only way to prove they’d met the quota. 

They returned and Jim gagged before vomiting acid and bile so severely that it brought him to his knees. The body wasn’t blackened or crisp. It was bloody and raw and Jim could barely look at the- girl? Boy? He couldn’t even tell who it had been. How was he ever going to carry them? It. The body had to be an it. 

The Vulcan already had one and touched Jim’s arm. He said nothing and Jim was grateful. Jim pulled a gory arm over his shoulders and tried not to think about it, but he was crying before they even got free of the trees. 

He’d just killed five children. 


	12. Chapter 12

Jim didn’t get out of bed the next day and, to his surprise, no one tried to make him. Seeing Hel had been upsetting, and the guilt over what had happened to her was still swirling in him like acid. The real pain was Ty’s final scene playing out on his eyelids every time he closed them. That loss was the blood running through him and the sinew and muscle that made him up. 

No one made him get out of bed the next day either. 

He could hear his mother and Asshole arguing about whether she could go back to work and what to do about her leave that had run out a couple days ago. Jim knew he felt guilty over what she was giving up, but there was so much acid already burning through him that he couldn’t sense a threshold of difference in his guilt level. 

On the third day, he knew the results of that argument the moment Asshole yanked him out of bed. The old Jim would have looked at him, would have said something, might have fought back. This Jim was too busy thinking of the way out he’d lost with his Vulcan friend. Ty had promised to save him and he did, but only so that he could live through every possible layer of misery the world could throw at him. 

“Are you crying?” Asshole demanded. His face was lined with disgust. Jim was still crying quietly as he doubled over from the punch to his stomach. “Get dressed. Get your ass to school. You’re upsetting your mother and I will not allow this moping anymore.” 

“Stop hitting me,” Jim said, his voice barely above a whisper. 

“I’ll stop hitting you when you stop deserving it.” 

Jim didn’t know what made him snap, but he could practically hear it echoing in his brain just like their makeshift shovels had in the woods of the course on Tarsus IV. “Stop hitting me!” he roared and unleashed on Asshole. Unlike his stepfather, who was afraid of leaving evidence, Jim pulled no punches and was not remotely _sportsmanlike_. He punched his stepfather in the face, kneed him in the groin and kept kicking and punching anywhere he could get a hit in. He wanted to get him on the floor, knock him down like he’d knocked Jim down so many times before. He wanted to prove that he wasn’t the same tiny kid who’d left the planet a year ago. 

Asshole hit him, hard. Jim opened his mouth from the dresser he’d just hit, but the wind had been completely knocked out of him. Asshole grabbed a fistful of his hair and started to drag him down the hall, but Jim wasn’t doing this again. He clawed the arm that had him, leaving scratches of blood until it released him and then he shoved the man as hard as he could. 

Jim stared in shock as he realized they were at the top of the stair. Or rather, Jim was at the top of the stair. Asshole was tumbling down, hitting the steps and Jim heard a crack as he hit the floor. He stumbled backward until he hit the wall and slid down it. 

Shit. 

Shit shit shit. 

Was Asshole dead? Had Jim just-? 

“Double digits,” he whimpered to himself. The number of people he’d killed was in the double digits. He couldn’t stay here. He had to get away. No one knew what he’d done on Tarsus IV, but they would know he’d done this. Unsteadily, he forced himself to his feet and began to shove things into his school bag. A clean set of clothes, his PADD, and Jim looked around. There was nothing else. He didn’t really own anything anymore. He didn’t have time to think about whether or not that was true as he took off and tried not to look at Asshole’s body as he stepped over it. 

Jim didn’t know where he was going, but he was about to find out what was at the end of his bus route. He switched to another bus until he was as far as he could get and then started walking. He would start over somewhere. He knew he couldn’t pass for an adult, but he was small and didn’t even really pass for his actual age of fourteen. Someone would take pity on him. 

Jim’s mind was still racing. He hadn’t meant to kill Asshole. He hadn’t meant to do any of it. He just wanted the man to stop. Now he had, Jim thought morbidly. As the sun went down, he started to think about Hel. He’d left her and she probably hated him. 

He hoped she was okay. 

The more he thought about her, the more his thoughts began to spiral. He couldn’t go back, though. He had to become a whole new person, disappear. Nothing he had with him would identify him. A medical scan would, but he could avoid those. The further he could get from the city, the better. Country doctors often relied less on scanners for anything less than an emergency. Many people thought that made them more skilled doctors, but Jim assumed they were all around the same skill level. All doctors had to learn the same things to receive their degrees, didn’t they? 

Jim continued to think about who he had to become and what he had to do to bury James Tiberius Kirk as he walked. This was what he needed. He needed to leave Jim behind and become someone else, someone who hadn’t killed ten people and hurt numerous others. 

It was hours after the sun went down before Jim began to feel weak and tired. The sky was light purple with the impending sunrise when he left the road and curled up in the ditch. It hadn’t rained recently, so it was dry and comfortable. His mother would be appalled to know he found sleeping in a ditch more comfortable than a bed, but he was too tired to think about her or anyone else as he curled up with his bag for a pillow and went to sleep. 

He was rudely awakened after what felt like minutes by an older man touching his face. Jim immediately swatted his hand and reflexively kicked him in the shin as he skittered backward. His heart was pounding and he was tense, ready for a fight-

Until he realized the old man was just that. He hopped on the leg Jim hadn’t kicked, holding his bruised shin and grimacing. “Not a morning person, then,” he remarked. 

Chagrin flooded Jim’s cheeks with crimson. “Sorry. You startled me.” 

“Now what on God’s green Earth were you doing sleeping in that ditch?” 

Jim stood up and brushed himself off in an effort to seem more composed. “I was tired.” 

“You- you were-“ the old man spluttered and then started to laugh. He literally held his belly as he did, bending with the force of his amusement before calming with a few huffing breaths. “I bet you’re hungry too, huh kid?” 

Jim stared at him shrewdly. “Why?” 

“Come on,” the guy said as he turned and started walking. “Tell me about it over breakfast.” 

Jim just stood there and watched him walk before realizing what he was being offered. He hurried after the old man. He wore faded jeans with threadbare knees and a flannel shirt thrown over a white undershirt like a jacket. “Why?” Jim repeated as he caught up. 

“Kid, when you get as old as I am, you don’t ask as many questions. You ever hear the phrase ‘Never look a gift horse in the mouth’?” 

Jim frowned. “Because the soldiers are in the belly, I assume.” 

“What?” 

“Troy? The Trojan War? Like a million years ago?” 

“No, son. You don’t look a gift horse in the mouth because it’s a gift and it don’t matter if it’s not top notch- which, by the way, the wife’s cooking is. You take the horse and you say thanks.” The man looked thoroughly pleased with himself, so Jim bit back on the response he had. 

“Where are we going?” Jim asked as he stumbled on some of the gravel in the dirt road. He was _really_ tired. 

“Well, you picked the right ditch to lay your head. I was getting the morning paper when I spotted you just down the way. This is Hardscrabble Farm. I live here.” 

Jim really couldn’t wrap his brain around the name. “Hard- Okay. Where’d you get that name?” 

“Grandpa O’Reilly-Flynn,” he replied. “Which reminds me. If we’re having breakfast together, you might as well call me Hutch. And what am I gonna call you?” 

“What kind of name is Hutch?” 

The old man chuckled again. “Son it is. You do ask a lot of questions don’t you, son?” 

Jim wrinkled his nose. He didn’t like this strange old man calling him son. “You sure don’t ask many do you, dad?” 

Hutch let out another belly-grabbing laugh but this one only went on a second or two. “I asked you for a name and you didn’t answer. If you don’t want me to call you son, give me something else, kid.” 

“Tyler,” Jim said before he knew he was going to. “Call me Tyler.” 

“Tyler, then. Well, me and the wife are about to sit down to breakfast and I’m sure she’ll have my hide if I leave you out in the cold, Tyler.” 

“It’s not cold.” 

A small chuckle was all he got for that cold statement of fact. “Figure of speech, Tyler.” 

It should have sounded wrong to hear that name, but it didn’t. In fact, it sounded good. Jim liked being called Tyler. It almost made him feel like a new person, like he could move forward and leave himself behind. Maybe it wasn’t too late for him. All he had to do was take the first step. “Thank you.” 

Hutch grinned and held open the door for him. Jim stared at it for a second. It swung open and had a handle. It wasn’t automatic. “You’re welcome.” 

The farm was old and weathered, but it had a cozy feel to it. The kitchen was full of warm colors and all focus seemed to point to the honey-colored wooden table surrounded by four chairs. “Georgie, I found a stray!” Hutch announced as they walked in. 

“Hutch, you know how I feel about d- Oh!” 

Georgie had wild, curly hair that had clearly gone gray through sheer intimidation of her enthusiasm. There was flour on her hands which she quickly brushed off on her flannel pajama pants, which broke the record for most flannel clothing Jim had seen in one day. Grabbing a plate from a rack on the counter, she loaded it with flatware and went to add it to the table as Hutch took over the cooking. 

“I’m Georgie, and I am the brains behind this place. Don’t let the grumpy old goat tell you any different.” 

“Who’re you calling old?” interjected Hutch. 

Georgie sat down at the table and motioned for Jim to do the same. The kitchen was cluttered, but in a nice way. There were little figurines and just about everything from the dish towel to the salt shakers was decorated in some way. “So what are you doing way out here, sweetheart? You got family nearby?” 

Jim stiffened a little. He’d thought about the future, not what he was going to say about his past. “Honestly, Georgie,” Hutch interrupted again and Jim had never been so grateful for anyone. “Let the kid eat before you grill him harder than this bacon you’ve charred into trash strips.” 

“You took so long to get the paper, I thought you were never coming back,” she retorted with a smirk. Jim couldn’t help but smile at the scene. “He does the cooking,” she whispered to Jim confidentially. “It’s the only thing he does better than me.” 

Jim snickered quietly. “So what’s your name, sweetheart?” 

“Tyler,” Jim replied easily. 

“Well, Tyler, I hope you don’t expect free breakfast. We work for our food around here and, since Hutch has to run errands in town today, I need someone to help me dry.” 

Jim had been worried when she’d implied he’d have to pay for the food, but somehow hearing the task and having no idea what it could be was even more terrifying. “Dry?” he echoed in a slightly worried voice. 

This only seemed to entertain her more. “I’ll wash and you’ll dry.” 

“Wash?” Jim repeated in a bemused tone. 

“The dishes, Tyler,” she replied emphatically. “They don’t wash themselves.” 

Jim looked at the empty plate in front of him. “Oh.” 

“Really not from around here, are you?” 

Hutch interrupted again as he piled a plate of pancakes on the table. “Eat up before it gets cold!” 

Jim couldn’t help but get the impression that Hutch knew Jim was running away from something and was trying to save him from revealing the details. It was the first attempt by an adult to save Jim from anything that he actually appreciated. He watched uncertainly as Georgie speared three pancakes and moved them to her plate and hesitated when she pushed the platter toward him. “You heard Hutch,” she warned. “He takes breakfast very seriously.” 

Jim warily stabbed one cake and watched until she ate some. It took a while as she slathered on butter and then syrup as if she had no idea he was watching her, and then sliced all three at once and ate it like a layer cake. Jim used the side of the fork to cut a bite approximately the size of an atom and mushed it against his front teeth with his tongue. He was still hesitant to accept what felt like a handout. He’d feel better about it once he was “drying.” 

He wasn’t even halfway through the cake when Hutch joined them with another large plate of bacon and eggs. Without asking, the old man heaped a spoon of eggs and a handful of bacon onto Jim’s plate, then Georgie’s, and then began to load his own. “Please don’t make me have to pack away leftovers,” he begged. “None of this tastes good warmed over.” 

Jim wasn’t sure he could eat everything that was on his plate. He’d eaten since he’d gotten away from Tarsus IV, but he had gotten used to hunger. It was almost a comfort to him to feel that gnawing sensation in the pit of his belly. It felt normal and if it was strong enough, it overpowered those dark thoughts that took him over. 

That was Jim though. If he was going to be Tyler, he was going to have to stop taking comfort in what was normal for Jim. So he took a fork full of eggs and shoved it into his mouth, chewing and then looking in amazement at the food. He’d never had real eggs, just the ones from the replicator. These had a different taste. He swallowed most of it but couldn’t contain himself long enough to get the rest down before saying, “This is delicious!” 

He took another bite as they chuckled. “Never had proper food, have you?” Hutch asked him. 

Jim only looked at him in confusion. “I’ve had-“

“Not any of that replicator shit,” Hutch interrupted only to be interrupted himself by Georgie’s “Hutch!” 

The old man smirked a little at his lingual slip. “Then, if replicator food is not food… I guess I haven’t had much ‘proper’ food,” Jim conceded. 

Jim startled as something hairy touched his leg. “Oh! Miss Kathy! You know better!” said Georgie as she pushed her chair back and scooped the cat into her arms. “She’s a very affectionate thing, but she’s not allowed in the house, are you?” 

Jim couldn’t quite keep up with the way in which Georgie switched between talking to the cat and the humans in the room, but he attempted to take it in stride. Once the cat was outside, Georgie rejoined them and was all apologies. “Doesn’t matter what we do, she always seems to find a way in. The rest of the cats are just happy with the barn, but not Miss Kathy!” 

“Oh,” Jim replied. He wasn’t sure how to respond to that at all. Luckily, his hosts never seemed lost for words. 

“If you intend to stay for lunch, you can help me feed them and the other animals later. There’s plenty of chores to go around and I’d be grateful for the help since this old coot won’t be around today. There’s a nice bowl of last night’s chili in it for you.” 

Jim would’ve helped just on principle. It was like the previous day had never happened. He felt peaceful here, with this friendly couple. It might not last, but for now he felt capable and that was worth everything to him. “I’d be happy to help.” 

“Wonderful!” Georgie beamed at him. 

She and Hutch began to tell him all about the farm and the animals on it. Apparently they grew all kinds of vegetables and got milk from an actual, live cow. Jim didn’t know places like this still existed, but he was looking forward to learning all about it. In spite of his efforts however, Jim did not manage to fit all of the food he’d been given into his stomach, which meant they showed him the compost bucket. As he was scraping the plates into it, they left him alone in the kitchen. 

Jim was floored by the amount of trust these two had. Sure, he was a kid, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t burn their house down or shoot them with a concealed phaser or something. They hadn’t exactly searched his bag. In fact, what was to stop him from shoving anything valuable in there and just running? 

He finished scraping the dishes into the bucket and put the lid back on before standing awkwardly in front of the sink. He recognized the sponge and soap, and knew in theory how to wash dishes by hand, but he’d never done it before. Georgie and Hutch were nowhere to be found though, so he decided he should at least try. Jim waved his hand under the spigot. 

Nothing happened. 

He touched it, wiggled it back and forth, and then stared at it in consternation. He tried to press each of the large buttons at the edge of the sink. Still nothing. Georgie came in and saw him tapping the sink and just chuckled. “You won’t have any luck like that.” 

She displaced him easily and handed him a towel before turning the button on the left. Water ran freely from the spigot. 

“Who turns a button?” Jim asked in frustration. 

“These are knobs, Tyler. Very old fashioned. Used to go on doors. It was how they opened and shut.” 

Jim just stared as she ran the sponge under water, squeezed a small spot of soap onto it and squeezed until it was all suds. She soaped up a plate, rinsed it, and handed it to Jim. He awkwardly tried to dry it, but his fingers kept leaving wet spots and she was waiting for him with another clean plate. “It doesn’t have to be perfect,” she assured him. “Just get it most of the way there. The air’ll do the rest.” 

Jim nodded in awe and did his best to keep up with the new skill. Soon, the plates they’d used and the cooking pan and bowl were clean and in a pile on the counter. Georgie took over at that point, sticking them in cabinets that Jim would have struggled to reach even though he was barely a head shorter than her. 

“Next we add the bucket to the compost pile, feed everyone, milk the cow, and get the crops some water. Do you know what a weed is, Tyler?” 

Jim shook his head. He felt overwhelmed in the best possible way. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so here's the thing. Apparently there is at least one REAL Hardscrabble Farm and i am not trying to be that farm. Jim's farm is a totally fictional farm named after a road i passed once that i don't think there was a farm near. I just really liked that there was a Hardscrabble Road and a Sheep Pen Lane. There were others, but i can't remember them or if there were even farms in that area.
> 
> The point is, this is not an existing farm and any similarities are 5000% unintentional. (Though i read a weird amount about farming for this fic. I even watched some YT videos about how some of the equipment works and how to calibrate it.)(Side note: not only did i not know until i was typing it that Jim was going to run away and end up on a farm, i also didn't know he was gonna accidentally kill Frank.)(I don't really do outlines because i like these surprises.)


	13. Chapter 13

Jim hadn’t realized the Vulcan was hurt when they got to the door. He’d been too shellshocked to realize anything. When he walked back into the school and (finally) heard the doors slide shut and lock behind him, he was alone. For a moment, there was silence and then the murmurs started. Why was he alone, they all wondered. Had he killed everyone else? 

Jim ignored them. He felt sick and wanted to be alone. Luckily, they all seemed to pick up on that fact so it wasn’t hard to find an empty corner to claim. 

“You okay, Cap?” 

Jim looked up and the sight of Thomas brought him back to himself. He shook his head and was joined by the other boy. “You were gone almost a week,” Thomas said. “The other schools are almost done their trials. What took so long?” 

“We didn’t kill each other as soon as they locked us in,” Jim mumbled. 

“What happened?” 

Jim shrugged. “I promised I’d live, so… I ran. I hid as long as I could. There were five of them that teamed up and they were guarding the water source. I guess they figured the other survivors would have to face them eventually.” 

“How did you… what happened to them?” 

“We blew them up.” 

“Blew-?”

“The Vulcan and I… we made a bomb. It wasn’t supposed to kill all of them.” 

“You and the Vulcan?” 

Jim nodded. “He’s in medical. He… protected me.” 

Thomas nodded. “Well, I hope he makes it out soon. I need to thank him for saving my brother.” 

Jim wanted to feel good and he should have. Thomas calling him brother was everything he wanted, but all he felt was hollow. “I killed five people, Flick.” 

Thomas hesitated before finally saying. “Good. It was them or you and I choose you. I don’t care who it is. You’re right. You’re my brother, and I’ll always choose you.” 

Jim sniffled a little. “It should be all of us. It’s not fair. I don’t want to make those choices. I killed five people, Flick. Five kids.” 

Thomas wrapped him in a hug as he started to really cry. Jim clung to him for dear life and ignored the other kids who were watching them. If they expected the survivors to come back whole, they hadn’t thought it through. None of them were going to survive this, not as the same kids they were before. 

“You’re a kid too, you know,” Thomas reminded him. 

They didn’t speak anymore and it wasn’t until that afternoon that the doors unlocked. Jim straightened a little, expecting his healed Vulcan protector, but instead it was five faces he didn’t recognize. They looked as bad as Jim felt. 

“Group three!” called a guard and started reading names. Half the room lined up at the door, including Thomas. 

“Remember what you promised me,” Jim said as Thomas stood to go. He looked scared. Jim was, too. Thomas nodded once in understanding. He was going to live. He had to. He promised. 

He watched Thomas as he went, feeling apprehensive. At the last moment, Thomas turned back to find Jim’s eyes with his own terrified ones. He was shoved forward and then gone, hopefully not forever. The door shut with a resolute bang that echoed through the gym. It was almost empty now. Jim stopped looking and did his best to stare at nothing. 

None of the other survivors talked to anyone, including each other. The last group seemed more terrified by that than anything else. Jim saw a small group talking to each other and he had a feeling they were forming an alliance. 

No, he wasn’t looking. Jim wasn’t looking at anything. He wasn’t observing or thinking or making any plans. He wasn’t waiting or doing anything. As far as he was concerned, Jim didn’t exist right now. Existing was too much. 

The doors opened again in the morning and Jim was too scared to look. 

They hissed closed almost immediately after, and he knew it wasn’t time. They’d probably brought food and Jim couldn’t eat. 

The only thing that could have brought him back in that moment was an older student sitting next to him and saying, “It is good to see you, Human.” 

Jim gave him a broken smile. “You too, Vulcan.” 

“By my count, it seems there is only one group left.” 

Jim nodded without response. He didn’t want to think anymore. He hadn’t slept, only stared very hard at nothing, which he was making an effort to get back to until the Vulcan touched his arm. He looked up at the older boy with a question that he didn’t know the words to. 

“You did not do anything wrong. We have all been placed in an impossible situation and the only one responsible for the deaths in these… games… is Governor Kodos.” 

“I didn’t have to kill them.” 

“If you did not, you would be dead.” 

“That might be better.” 

The Vulcan’s grip tightened on his arm. “You deserve to live.” 

“So did they.” 

“Yes,” the Vulcan agreed. “However, they seemed very eager to kill each and every one of us. You did not want anyone to die. Logically, this makes you the more moral of the group. As this was meant to be a test of who deserved to survive, the qualities being measured were more than just academic or physical. I believe, barbaric as this is, that it was successful- at least in your case.” 

“Successful?” Jim breathed. “How can you say that?” 

“By my calculations based on the virtues and characteristics most valuable to the majority of cultures, I believe you are the most deserving of survival.” 

“That’s not- it’s not a thing that can be quantified or valued. Everyone deserves to survive. Equally.” 

“What about criminals? Sadists who just like to watch people suffer?” 

“It’s not our place to judge,” though Jim probably wouldn’t cry over someone like Asshole dying here. 

“No, it is not. But still Kodos seems to believe so. Please know that what you did is not equivalent to murder. You survived. Most cultural laws agree that self-defense, killing in the name of survival, is not a crime. There was no other way.” 

Jim didn’t acknowledge the words. “I’m tired,” he said instead. The Vulcan nodded and squeezed his arm before releasing him. The prolonged contact was a little awkward, but Jim got the impression it was the older boy’s way of trying to comfort him like a human might. He was probably as strange to the Vulcan as the Vulcan was to him. 

Jim slid away so that he could curl up against the wall and shut his eyes. It felt like he’d never fall asleep, but eventually he was dreaming. He’d set off the bomb again and was puking beside the body he had to carry, but as he reached for it, the body came back to life. It grabbed him by the throat and shoved him to the ground. They didn’t stop there, though. The burned corpse kept pushing him and he sank into the dirt, the corpse following him underground. They kept sinking and Jim was drowning in his own gravedirt until he opened his eyes and saw the Vulcan. 

Suddenly Jim realized he was screaming. He couldn’t stop. The Vulcan reached out to touch his face, but it was not comforting like it might have been if he’d grabbed Jim’s arm. It was all fingertips and Jim was going to pull away until he felt a wash of calm. He wasn’t screaming anymore, just staring at the Vulcan in awe. In the calm was a sort of apology. Jim knew these were the Vulcan’s thoughts. He’d connected to Jim’s mind somehow and he hadn’t asked because Jim was in no condition to answer. He was grateful, though. For the first time since he’d set off that bomb, he didn’t feel like a walking piece of garbage. He felt like he was extraordinary and, well, fascinating. 

The contact broke and Jim blinked slowly as the Vulcan spoke. “I apologize for my forwardness, but I did not know how else to calm you.” 

“It’s okay,” Jim breathed. He relaxed a little more. “Those were your thoughts.” 

“Some of them, yes,” the Vulcan confirmed. “I am not yet adept enough at the mind meld to transfer memories. Emotion is all I can truly manage.” 

“Thank you,” he murmured. “This is the best I’ve felt in days. And, for the record, if I ever freak out like that again, you have my permission to do your Vulcan magic.” 

“I will endeavor to keep this in mind, though it is my hope that you will not need future intervention.” 

Jim scoffed a little. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the way you talk.” 

“I am uncertain I will get used to the way you emote.” 

Jim grinned again. “I’m glad we got stuck together.” 

“I too am grateful.” 

They lapsed into silence, but this time it was amiable and not an attempt for Jim to distance himself from everyone. Why would he want to? The feeling of the Vulcan’s mind in his own was fading, but the one thing that stood out was how _right_ it had felt. Jim had never felt so connected to anyone, so… not alone. Another mind in his… it felt perfect. 

The doors opened at dawn and Jim launched forward onto his knees to see who came through the doors. Four kids walked in and none of them were Thomas. It was a full four seconds before Jim realized he wasn’t breathing. He couldn’t move. He stared at the doors as they shut behind all but eleven of the students, expecting them to open again, for Thomas to walk through like he’d just fallen behind and had to catch up. 

Finally, Jim gasped in a breath that sounded more like a sob. “No, nonono,” he whimpered. He met the Vulcan’s eyes as the older boy put himself into Jim’s line of sight. He wasn’t calm anymore. He couldn’t breathe. There were fingertips, the reminder that a fifth person could be in medical to join them later, and then blissful darkness filled him. 

When he woke, the Vulcan was still watching over him and even though he could still remember the feelings of esteem the older boy held for him, Jim couldn’t feel them anymore. His throat was dry and his eyes felt swollen like he’d been crying, though he was sure he hadn’t been. “The last five returned about an hour ago,” his friend informed him. “No word yet on when they’ll let us go.” 

Go. Jim’s eyebrows rose a little as he thought of returning to the Leightons’ empty house. The entire family had been slaughtered now, and somehow there was Jim, still alive. Meanwhile, he was still troubled by the math. Before he could mention it, the lock of the school doors turned. Jim was on his feet the second he saw who was in the doorway. “Thomas,” he breathed. He began to stumbled forward when the guards stepped in. Thomas ignored Jim and headed to the opposite corner. 

“Group five,” one of the guards announced. “You have ten minutes to eat, and then we’ll be back for you.” 

Jim stared in open shock. Most of them did. Group five. Group five? There were only four. There were four groups and then it was over, they got to survive. Except he knew it wasn’t true. This was why there were twenty left. They had to narrow it down again. Jim shut his eyes and took a breath. He wrapped his brain around it and headed to Thomas. 

“You okay, Flick?” 

“Don’t call me that.” 

“Okay. Look, Tom, they’re obviously going to-“

“My name is Thomas and you should use it, James.” 

It felt like a punch to the gut. “Jim,” he said quietly. “You don’t… call your brother James.” 

“You’re not my brother and you never were,” Thomas bit out angrily. “Just stay away from me, okay?” 

Jim didn’t know what to do. He was at a complete loss, so he nodded jerkily and said, “Okay.” 

He backed up awkwardly and started to cross the room. His Vulcan friend had been watching the whole thing, and Jim shook his head before pretending he had any interest in the food that had been left. He picked up a cup of juice and sipped at it half-heartedly as he tried not to think about the feeling of his heart breaking in half. 

It was okay that Thomas hated him. Jim was still going to protect him. 


	14. Chapter 14

Jim had blisters on his hands by the time they finished up and he was a mess. It was wonderful. Georgie was appalled to see the pustules on Jim’s hands. It hadn’t occurred to her that he didn’t have the callouses she did from years of pulling weeds and carrying heavy tools. She found his enthusiasm endearing, though. He could barely sit still as she applied some kind of cool ointment. 

They let him shower, giving him a towel and telling him to “help yourself” to any of the soaps they had. He felt good, like he had earned his night’s sleep. His muscles were tired in a good way and he felt unbelievably light. He was wholly unprepared to be backed into a corner at the dinner he’d earned for working after lunch. 

“Tyler, we have to talk about your parents.” 

“Do we?” Jim asked in a tight voice. 

“Well, you might be older than you look-“

“I am.” 

“Regardless,” Georgie interrupted. “There’s no way you’re old enough to be out on your own. We’re happy to have you, and you’ve been so helpful, but your parents have to be looking for you.” 

“They’re dead,” Jim lied. The pale look on his face must have sold it. It was only half a lie, anyway. A third, if you counted Asshole as a parent. 

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Georgie said and he believed her. “But who were you staying with?” 

Jim bit the inside of his cheek. “Look, I’m fourteen. I’m almost old enough to be on my own…”

“Almost ain’t there, kid,” Hutch said in a grave voice. “Your guardian’s gonna come looking for you eventually, and we’re not kidnappers.” 

Jim hadn’t thought about that. Could they get in trouble for harboring him? “I’ll go,” he offered. 

“That’s not what we’re saying, sweetheart,” Georgie assured him. “You’re welcome to stay. Can we call someone? Ask?” 

Jim’s chest grew tight. They couldn’t call anyone. No one could know where he was. He’d go to jail. “I ran away,” he said, begging the table in front of him since he couldn’t look at them. “My uncle- my guardian- is an asshole and I can’t go back there.” 

“Okay, okay. If you don’t want to go back, we’ll help. We’ll call someone.” 

“No, you can’t call anyone. They’ll just send me back to him.” 

“He the one that gave you that eye?” Hutch interrupted. Jim touched one eye and then the other. He hadn’t realized it was bruised, but it was painful to touch. The mirror in the bathroom was small and the height of a full-grown man like Hutch, not a boy who hadn’t even had a proper growth spurt. Jim fell silent. It wasn’t a lie to let them think Asshole had done it. He had. It was humiliating however, and Jim didn’t like being viewed as a victim. He hated it. He hated when grown-ups looked at him like he needed their help. 

He wasn’t a project or a pet. He was a person and he’d lived through more than some of them ever would. “I should be moving on. I have an aunt up north,” he lied. 

“Tyler, we’re not kicking you out,” Georgie insisted. “We just want to make sure-“

“I appreciate that, but I’m not interested in contacting anyone or involving anyone. Not you either. I don’t want to get you in trouble.” 

They exchanged a look and sighed almost in unison. He wasn’t sure if it was annoying or endearing. Hutch took his turn trying to pry the young man open. “Son, if we cared about trouble, we would have turned you in to the police this morning. We just want to know what’s going on. If you’re running from someone, we’ll help. But if you don’t tell us, we’re not going to know if we make the wrong choice.” 

“I can’t prove anything,” Jim told them. He was going to tell them and if they turned him into a project, he’d just leave and find somewhere else. The thing was, he didn’t want to find somewhere else. “My mom didn’t even know. Until- um, he was careful about it and… Let’s just say no one is going to believe me. And I wasn’t exactly a model citizen, so they’ll just say I got in a fight or something. I just want… I need a fresh start. I need somewhere no one knows me. I’m a hard worker and I’m smart. I’ll earn my keep, just... No one can know where I am.” 

By some miracle, they seemed to accept this. Jim didn’t know why or how, but he wasn’t about to try to talk them out of it. The chances of someone finding him out here was slim. There was nothing, no reason for anyone to come looking out here. Jim was a Starfleet brat. He was used to technology and space, not animals and farms. He wouldn’t mind getting used to the latter, though. 

Dinner passed easily after that and Jim felt lighter. He’d have to keep an eye on them to make sure they weren’t secretly planning to turn him in, giving him a false sense of security, but for now he could rest. There was no one for them to call tonight. 

Jim took the opportunity while he brushed his teeth to stretch onto his tiptoes to try to see in the mirror. He could just make out his forehead and eyebrows… he stretched and managed to get his eyelid for a fraction of a second before rinsing his mouth in irritation and climbing onto the toilet and leaning sideways. It was too far, though, and he really only got a glimpse of his hair. 

Jim would not be defeated, however. He changed into the (flannel, because everything here seemed to be flannel) pajamas they’d loaned him and pulled out his PADD. There was a camera on it and he managed to really get a look at his eye. It was impressive that neither of them had visibly reacted to it when they first saw it. If this was what a couple days of healing looked like, he would hate to have seen it when he first ran away. 

Jim was just about to delete the picture when he changed his mind. He filed it away, deep in some sub-folders. He wanted it to remind himself that this time, at least, he’d killed a monster. Jim had never done a thing to Asshole except exist. He might be in the double digits, but at least number ten hadn’t been innocent. 

Jim woke before the sun the next day and got dressed without waiting for anyone to get him. He was excited to learn more about the farm and all of the ways this place operated. It was like stepping into the past living here, when people worked for their food and earned it. They had to make it themselves. There were no replicators. They couldn’t even get water without physically turning a button- no, a knob. 

No one else was awake and Jim was quiet. The house was old and creaky, but he’d already mentally catalogued the spots which would give him away if he stepped on them. It was just another line on the long list of things Tarsus IV had done to him. Jim didn’t know how to cook, so he passed by the kitchen entirely and began to lace on his dirty shoes from the day before. He hadn’t understood at first why they had a separate “mud room” by the door, but after a day of running around and getting dirty, he understood completely. 

Once he was shod, Jim eased the door open and slipped outside. Georgie had already told him the cow was milked every morning and he knew how to do that, so he headed straight to the barn. The cow gave him a disinterested look and chewed some hay as he grabbed a clean bucket and went to task. 

It was peaceful out here and Jim was already in love. The sun was still beginning to rise and the purple glow through the door and windows was barely enough to see by, but it was also the kind of quiet that wasn’t quiet. There were insects here, crickets chirping, and birds just starting to sing. Jim took his time, knowing he’d gotten an early start compared to the previous day. There was time to just sit and listen. Jim had never done anything like that before. 

There was a light on in one of the upstairs windows of the house when he finished, so he gave the cow an appreciative pat and gathered his bucket before heading back. Hutch was astonished to see him coming in with the bucket but he recovered quickly. “Careful with all those chores, Tyler. We might get used to it. Don’t want to set the bar too high now.” 

Jim grinned. “It’s okay. I like it.” 

Hutch chuckled a little as he took the milk and began to start the unfamiliar breakfast ritual. “Give it a couple days. You’ll change your tune.” 

Jim only grinned. He didn’t think he would, but he wasn’t about to argue. “Anything I can do to help?” he offered hopefully. 

Hutch grabbed something from the counter and turned to Jim before setting it on the table. “Ever seen one of these before?” he asked. 

Jim examined it. It was a box and he hesitated before opening it. There were dozens of handwritten cards in it with dishes listed. “Are these… rice… rice peas?” 

Hutch laughed loudly this time and Jim felt his cheeks heat up a bit in embarrassment. It took the man what seemed like forever to get a hold of himself and he actually wiped the corner of his eyes with a knuckle. Jim hadn’t realized he’d said something _that_ ridiculous. “They’re called recipes,” Hutch informed him. “You really haven’t seen the inside of a kitchen before, have you? Eaten anything grown and not replicated?” 

“Not really,” Jim mumbled, his cheeks still warm. They’d had crops on Tarsus IV, but they were more nutritious than delicious. He didn’t want to think about that, either. Those memories would ruin this place for him and they had no right, not when it was so different. 

“Alright, well a recipe is easy. It’s got the ingredients, the amounts, and the directions. Read all the ingredients and all the directions first. Then you can gather what you need and get started. This one’s not exactly a beginner, but I think you can manage.” 

Jim looked at it dubiously. Bread. How was he supposed to make bread? He read the instructions and didn’t quite understand it all. He could get started, though. “Um,” he started uncertainly. “Where do you keep… um, everything?” 

Hutch chuckled a little, more quietly this time and before he could answer, Georgie entered the kitchen. “So that’s what all the ruckus is about. Hutch, it is too early to be this entertained by anything. Especially bread.” 

Hutch gave Jim a grin and there was a twinkle in his eye. “It’s never too early to be happy,” he said and as if to prove his point, he grabbed Georgie’s hand, spun her around until she was wrapped in his arms, and placed a chaste kiss on her lips. “Our young friend’s already milked the cow and now he’s working on his very first recipe.” 

“Hutch, bread? That’s not exactly-“

“An enterprising young man like Tyler? Oh, he’ll be fine. Besides, I’m here to talk him through the hard parts.” 

Georgie gave him a dubious look and held Hutch’s gaze in a challenge as she said, “Tyler, what does flour look like?” 

“Um,” Jim said. He didn’t want to let Hutch down, but he was pretty sure he couldn’t answer that question. “What kind of flower?” 

Hutch tried to hold it together, but failed almost immediately. “Come on, Tyler,” he said to Jim as he released his captive. “I’ll show you where we keep it all.” 

Jim took it all in as well as he could. Most of it was labelled, so he really only had to remember where it was kept. Even the pieces for measuring were labelled. Hutch was right. This wasn’t going to be too hard. Jim was meticulous in his measurements and following of the instructions, finally stopping once he had a glutinous mess. “So what does ‘knead’ mean?” he asked in a high voice. 

Hutch abandoned the fruit he was slicing and joined Jim at the table. “Dump a little flour on your hands, like so, and then…” Hutch rubbed the flour all over his hands and then clapped them, grinning at the puff of dust as he did so. He then proceeded to press and roll the dough, shaping it. “You do that until it feels right. Shouldn’t be too thick and it should be smooth. It doesn’t have to be perfect. Just get it into a nice, round ball.” 

Jim nodded and began to knead the dough. He felt good about it once it was done and Hutch seemed pleased with his work as he draped a thin towel over the bowl. “That’s gonna sit for a couple hours, then we’ll worry about the next part.” 

“Hours,” Jim echoed. He’d read that in the directions, but assumed it was optional. “I thought this was for breakfast?” 

“We’ve got a few slices of the last loaf left that we’ll have this morning,” Hutch shrugged. “This one’s for later.” 

Jim nodded his understanding. At least, if it didn’t work out, he wouldn’t have ruined breakfast. “Anything else I can do?” 

Hutch returned to slicing fruit. “First you’ll want to wash up and get that dough off your hands. Then you might check on Georgie out in the barn. Since you got the milk, there’s just the feed left for the morning chores.” 

Jim turned the water knob and rinsed the flour and bits of dough that had stuck to his hands down the drain. Once again, he realized how much he loved it here. Everywhere else, everything had been automatic and out of his control. Here, he was in charge of everything. He had to act to make anything happen. Doors didn’t just open for him. Water didn’t turn on for him. Food couldn’t even exist without someone creating it or growing it or slicing it. Jim let the water run for a few extra seconds before turning the knob back- just because he could. Anywhere else, the water would have shut off the moment he removed his hands. 

Still grinning, Jim laced his shoes back on and headed out to help with the feed. Most of the animals had already gotten their food, but Jim was in time to carry a bag of seed out to the chickens. He was still nervous about collecting eggs. The erratic way the birds moved their heads made Jim certain he was going to get his hand pecked no matter what he did. Georgie didn’t mention it, and she didn’t laugh at him like Hutch, but he could still see the twinkle of amusement in her eyes as he collected one and she got the other four. 

Jim was glad when they finished with the chickens. It was silly to be scared of something so much smaller than he was, but he sort of was anyway. Hutch smiled at them both as they went inside and something inside Jim felt warm, like he was part of this unit, like he belonged. He felt a small pang of guilt when he thought about his mother and the fact that he was virtually writing her out of his life, but for the first time in far too long, he felt right. Jim had direction and control. He felt useful, like there was a reason he was here. It felt like Georgie and Hutch wanted him there, like they were getting as much out of him as he was getting from them. 

Breakfast conversation mostly centered on Jim and his edification. He promised them he had lessons on his PADD and that they didn’t need to worry about whether or not he was enrolled in school. They probably should have fought him harder on it, but they all knew he couldn’t be enrolled somewhere without attracting attention and he got the impression they wanted him to stay almost as much as he did. Maybe he should have been worried about strangers wanting to keep a teenage boy, but he just wasn’t. They were too kind to mean him harm. They had the air of young grandparents, though it seemed to be just the two of them running the farm by themselves. 

Well, Jim would see to it that it got easier for them. As long as they’d have him, he’d be as useful as possible. He wanted to make things easy for them, and there was some feeling akin to love forming in his chest for them. Hutch and Georgie might not be his family, but he was sure going to treat them like they were. 

The chores were done quickly and Jim got to find out just what they did for fun around there: Scrabble. He’d never seen the game, let alone played it, but it was simple enough to learn. The letter tiles were old and worn and Jim got the impression the game had been in the family for generations. This was probably how Hardscrabble Farm had gotten its name. 

Jim loved every minute of it. 


	15. Chapter 15

Jim stood at his flag on the circle nearest to the forest. Thomas was ignoring him and had positioned himself on the far side. The Vulcan was just joining Jim the next flag over when the younger boy sprinted across the circle to the empty flag by Thomas. There were no other unclaimed flags across the circle, so his pointy-eared friend was forced to stand next to strangers. Jim gave him a terrified and apologetic look. 

“Why are you avoiding me?” Jim asked under his breath as the guards explained the rules- as if they didn’t already know how it worked. Five would leave. Five students from each school would survive for a total of twenty. Twenty kids out of four hundred in the whole colony. Just twenty. 

“If you don’t run when the door shuts, I _will_ kill you, Jim,” Thomas warned. 

Jim bit the inside of his cheek for a moment as he tried to think of a reply, but none came. The door shut and a full echo boomed across them all. It was silent and they were stone. None of them wanted to do this again, but here they were. The lists had been pointless. Clearly it had only been in the hopes that whoever was on your list would have been killed off before the final round- or that you would be. Or maybe it was so they knew who to kill in the event that you broke the rules. “Thomas-“ Jim whispered and then all hell broke loose. 

A fist collided with the side of Jim’s head and the fact that it was Thomas hurt more than the ringing in his ears or the lights dancing behind his eyes. 

He ran. There was an odd number of them and Jim seemed to be the only one not occupied with another student. He spotted the Vulcan fighting one of the older students and drove his fist into his assailant’s back. There was a crack and Jim knew part of it was his hand, but part of it was not. The older student collapsed and Jim grabbed the Vulcan with the hand he hadn’t just broken and they ran. 

It was the same course, the same everything. They didn’t head for the water and instead went straight to the cave. Everything was just how they’d left it and they slipped one by one past the bush and into the hole that had been home the last time they were trapped here. 

They both sat there, trying to catch their breath by suppressing it. Sound would be too much. Jim flattened himself onto his stomach to peer beneath the bush. It was still full and he could only get peppered glimpses of what was out there, but he didn’t see anyone who’d followed them. As his heart rate slowed and his breath returned, Jim felt dizzy and the pain in his head had an echoing throb that almost sounded like _THOMas THOMas THOMas THOMas_ if he listened too closely. 

He jumped a little when he felt a hand on his shoulder. “I don’t see anything,” he told the Vulcan. Blessedly, Jim was allowed to pretend that was all that was on his mind. “Do you think it’ll go on very long?” 

“I suspect it will,” the Vulcan replied. “Many of the survivors appear to have formed bonds. Most will be much more hesitant to kill in this round.” 

“What about you?” Jim asked. 

“I will do what I must to survive.” 

“Then why protect me? You could probably break me in half, easily.” 

It was a sign of implicit trust that Jim remained at his task of watching the outside through the scattered holes in the bush even though it left him completely vulnerable to the older boy. 

“I should have thought that was clear to you.” 

“Okay, so I’m interesting,” Jim conceded. “I can’t be more interesting than survival. That’s just not logical. In fact, I’m probably the weakest one left. Logically, I should be the first to go.” 

“You are not weak,” the Vulcan insisted quickly. “Strength is measured in more than size and muscle.” 

“If it weren’t for your help, I would have died in the first round,” Jim reminded him. 

“As would I have done without your help.” 

The words hung between them. Jim had already forgotten his stunt from before. He’d forgotten why he’d hidden this alcove. He’d even forgotten that the Vulcan had been hurt by someone besides Jim. That bomb they’d built, that Jim had set off, that the Vulcan had shielded him from… That was what he remembered. Jim Kirk was good at hurting people, even when he didn’t want to. “If this is about owing me or something, I think we’re square.” 

There was silence for a moment, and it was painful as Jim wondered if his words had sunk in and he was about to die. “I fail to see how either of us is cubic in any respect.” 

Jim snorted and actually laughed a little before catching himself. “I meant we’re even.” 

“I know,” the Vulcan replied and Jim smiled a little to himself. “You should know that I do not operate under a system of reciprocation. I think we complement each other well. That bomb, though less than ideal, was a very successful plan that neither of us could have executed without the other. We are stronger together and, logically, that means we should put effort into maintaining this partnership.” 

“Oh,” Jim said because he couldn’t think of anything else to say. It shouldn’t disappoint him so much to learn that a logic-driven creature’s loyalty was actually just logic. 

“Less than logically, I believe you to be worth saving and I would be less than gratified were you not to survive this ordeal.” 

Jim couldn’t help the little flutter in his chest to hear that. “I’d be sad if you died too.” 

“It is strange, but I do feel as if we have formed an almost-familial bond.” 

“Like brothers,” Jim confirmed. 

“It is not logical to hold such a bond for someone one has known for a few days.” 

“Well, Vulcan, the past few days haven’t exactly been logical. I won’t speak for Vulcans, but we humans base our attachments on who people are, and I think I have a pretty good idea what kind of person you are.” 

“You are suggesting that, because we have endured these trials together we know each other and that these bonds are based on the trust developed in these situations.” 

“Yeah, something like that,” Jim said. 

“I must however disagree about these trials. I find them to be perfectly logical.” 

Jim frowned. “It’s logical to torture kids?” 

“No, that is not to what I’m referring.” 

“If this was logical, then why just do it to the kids? Why not make the adults fight to the death too?” 

“The adults are already fully formed, fully realized. Their career paths have been chosen, and their contribution to society is obvious. I do not agree with these methods, but students are still unknown. The only metric they have for us is our test scores. They cannot predict if a well-tested individual will go into a specialty field or one that anyone can do.” 

“So why have us kill each other?” 

“It at least gives them one more metric when evaluating us. I suspect this is why some of the children were not subjected to the trials.” 

Jim grew silent as he thought of the second Leighton child and he blinked rapidly against the moisture in his eyes. “Maybe it was better for them.” 

“As they are gone and we are not, I cannot help but believe that we are the better off.” 

Jim didn’t reply immediately. They weren’t dead, and that was the only positive he could think of. “At least they died themselves,” he uttered in a voice barely above a whisper. 

“I do not understand.” 

Jim sighed and shook his head. “It’s nothing. I just mean… they didn’t have to do this. They didn’t have to kill anyone or- or…”

“You will survive this, and I do not believe you will become a different person. It will not be easy, but you will recover, Human.” 

Jim tried to smile. “Thanks, Vulcan.” 

Suddenly there was a warm body next to his and Jim made room so they could both watch. They were silent for a very long time and Jim let his thoughts whirl around the same route that led from the dead to the murdered to his own evanescent salvation to counting backward and trying not to think… which would bring him back to exactly what he was trying not to think. 

“Rest,” the Vulcan said as Jim blinked wearily. “You are tired.” 

“What about you?” 

“Vulcans require less sleep than humans. I will be alert for many hours yet.” 

Jim blinked in response before nodding in agreement and putting his head down on his arms. It was easier to sleep with someone else’s warmth nearby. The cold floors and ground hadn’t been ideal and neither was the cave, but at least he was warm. The fact that he felt safe with the older boy helped more than anything. Jim knew, as long as the Vulcan was nearby, he wouldn’t be taken by surprise. 

When he woke, he’d moved. His head was on the Vulcan’s arm instead of his own and he’d somehow ended up with his shoulder touching the older boy’s. “Sorry,” he mumbled, still half asleep as he pulled away. 

“There is no need to apologize.” 

Jim ignored the response in favor of trying to rub the sleep out of his eyes. He thought he caught a hint of amusement in his friend’s eyes, but he blinked and it was gone. “Any idea what’s going on out there?” 

“It has grown very quiet. I suspect the fighting has ended and we are now to the point where strategy plays out.” 

Jim sat up with his back to the horticultural door. “So what’s our strategy?” 

“If it ever grows dark, I would like to get to the nearby food source. We will ration it for maximum time. If I did not miss any during our previous ordeal, there are four food sources in this course.” 

“That’s it? Wait it out?” 

The Vulcan’s eyes moved alone to focus on him and Jim felt naked for a moment, as if his friend could see everything about him in that one look. Then he looked away and Jim could breathe again. “It is the only way to survive without directly killing the other students.” 

Jim swallowed a little. It was true that he didn’t want to kill anyone else. Doing so might just break him for good. Did the Vulcan realize this about him? If so, did that mean the Vulcan also thought it would destroy him? “Okay,” he agreed. They fell into silence again, but Jim wasn’t willing to tolerate it this time. “So tell me about Vulcan. What’s it like there?” 

“It is a desert planet. Much warmer than most Terran colonies.” 

Jim frowned. “So is Tarsus cold for you?” 

“It is not uncomfortable. I have adjusted for the most part, though home would obviously be more conducive to optimal functionality.” 

Jim smirked. “You could always wear a sweater or something.” 

“The difference is not significant enough to warrant it. Vulcan biology causes me to be about one or two degrees warmer than an average human. My system is largely self-regulatory, so the temperature would have to be significantly cooler to truly affect me.” 

“Huh.” Jim eyed him curiously, wondering what else was different about Vulcans but knowing it’d be impolite to ask. His eyes lingered on the pointy ears and he wondered if that did something for hearing, if Vulcans had better hearing than humans. Instead, he opted for something less personal. “Do you miss your family?” 

“Vulcans do not experience longing or missing. We accept situations as they are and operate within those parameters.” 

“Oh.” The response took the wind from Jim’s proverbial sails and he didn’t quite know what to do with it. “So when we get off this planet, you won’t miss me?” He tried to grin like he was teasing, but he really only looked pathetic and at least a little heartbroken. 

“I will not experience the emotion,” the Vulcan confirmed, “but please know that your presence in this ordeal has made it significantly less difficult. I am gratified to have you with me now.” 

It wasn’t exactly a profession of friendship and brotherhood, but Jim could see it for what it was. For someone who didn’t feel much at all, it was profound enough. “Thank you. For the record, I’m going to miss you.” 

Jim did not imagine the smile that turned the corner of the Vulcan’s mouth, though it did not last. As his mouth straightened out, his eyebrow rose, but he said nothing. “I do apologize for your future hardship, then.” 

“We’ll just have to visit or something. You came to Tarsus to study Terran colonies, right? Well, what better place to study Terrans than, you know, the home planet?” 

“You suggest that it would be I who visits you.” 

“You’re the one who wanted to learn things. I was forced to come here.” 

It might have been a passing shadow, but Jim thought the Vulcan looked tense. “I am aware that the subject makes you uncomfortable-“

“So you’re going to steer clear of it and change the subject?” Jim prodded. 

“Has it occurred to you that, were you to visit Vulcan, you would not be around your uncle?” 

It hadn’t and Jim’s face clearly showed it. His face fell as quickly as his hopes had risen and he shrugged a little. “They’re not going to let me go off world again. They only did this because they didn’t want to deal with me.” 

“I do not understand.” 

“Becoming kind of our thing, isn’t it?” 

“In what way were you facilitating deals with your guardians?” 

“No, I mean… They didn’t want to deal with me, like… They didn’t know what to do with me. At least my mom didn’t. I was always getting into trouble and they couldn’t stop me. So I guess they decided to see if someone else could.” 

“Why?” 

“Because they didn’t know what else to do? I don’t know.” 

“No, you misunderstand my query. Why did you get into trouble? Were the rules unclear?” 

“No.” Jim shrugged and looked at the floor uncomfortably. “I just… I don’t know. I get angry and I do stupid stuff.” 

“What are you angry about?” 

Jim shrugged. He felt scrutinized and he didn’t like it. He especially didn’t want to scrutinize himself. This conversation was already getting too close to his core. “Maybe you can teach me how not to feel anger.” 

“Vulcan disciplines are taught to us almost from birth,” the older boy replied matter of factly. “I do not know how effective they will be for you.” 

“It’s okay, I was sort of joking,” Jim replied. 

“Close your eyes.” 

“Why?” 

The Vulcan looked at him and Jim rolled his eyes before shutting them. 

“Good, now breathe. Sink into yourself. Focus on the air in your lungs. Pay attention to the way it feels as your lungs contract and expand. As you breathe in, let the air move your head into an easy position. Release tension in your neck, relax your shoulders.” 

Jim felt silly at first, but he did his best to comply and soon he was completely relaxed if not calm. He kept breathing, picturing open fields and feeling the air inside him. By the time he was instructed to “Open your eyes slowly,” he felt like he was in a cloud. He wasn’t tired, not exactly, but he felt slow and easy. 

“No wonder you’re so level all the time. You do this every day or what?” 

The Vulcan stretched a little and Jim was reminded how long he’d been their lookout. “Meditation is an integral part, though I did alter the method a bit to better resemble Terran psychology.” 

“So you just… meditate?” 

“As I said, it is integral. Part of meditation however, is the analysis of your inner workings. In addition to the calming exercise, you should also review the experiences of your day to cultivate a list of what aspects were significant and what areas require further action.” 

Jim nodded slowly as he took it all in. This wouldn’t solve his problems, but it felt like it had to help somehow. “Thank you.” 

“You are most welcome.” 

“No, really. No one’s ever helped me like this before. Mostly they just get angry and tell me to stop wrecking everything.” 

“You do not have to answer this now, but I do think you should meditate on it. What are you angry about? What can you do? If there is nothing you can do, then you must accept that things are as they are and discern how to work within those parameters.” 

“You make it sound so easy.” 

“It is simple, but it is not easy.” 

Jim chuckled a little. “Yeah, I guess so.” 

They lapsed into silence again and Jim couldn’t help but think about how lucky he was, even in a situation like this. He’d found maybe the one person in the galaxy who could give him something that helped. The Leightons could make him feel welcome and good, but it didn’t help him when he had to go back. They didn’t ask why he came there or why he was a Problem Child. They didn’t really want to deal with him either. He couldn’t fault them. They had been kind and he had a fair amount of love for each of them. He would die if it meant Thomas wouldn’t- even with the tender bruise reminding him of their last interaction. 

“I can keep watch for a while if you need to sleep. Or meditate or whatever. Or if you just want to not be lying on the ground any longer.” 

“Thank you,” the Vulcan replied and Jim laid down to peer out. Jim was watching the outside, but he could hear as his friend stretched his legs and could picture the hunched-over way he’d have to do it in the small cave. Jim glanced back as the Vulcan settled in, sitting with perfect posture and closed eyes as he began to practice the Vulcan version of what he’d shown Jim. 

Determined to give him the chance, Jim turned his attention back to the outside and focused on how they were going to get through this. 


	16. Chapter 16

Jim grunted as he heaved a large bag of seed up to Georgie so she could dump it in the seed drill. She’d given him a speed lesson on calibrating it with the caveat that they really only used it for alfafa so it would really only need to be checked every now and then and not completely recalibrated. The vegetables, she explained, were all planted without the heavy equipment. They didn’t need to grow as much since it was just for them. 

She shut the lid and jumped down off the wheel with a thunk as her boots hit the hard ground. “Now, let’s get you set up in the tractor,” she said and Jim’s eyes widened. 

“Me?” he said in an almost-squeak. 

“Yes, you. I did all that plowing yesterday. It’s your turn.” 

Jim followed her in quiet trepidation as they approached the large machine. He knew intellectually that all he would really have to do is direct it and that its size wouldn’t make it more difficult to steer or anything, but he also knew this was an antique piece of machinery, very expensive, and he was going to have to climb to get into it. This was hardly the car he’d intentionally taken to damage. He did not want to damage this even a little. 

She hopped into the seat and began to point out all of the controls to him and he nodded numbly. Couldn’t he just plant vegetables? Muck out the barn? He’d rather face the chickens and their twitchy heads. “Okay, hop on in,” she said as she climbed out of the seat. “Have a look, get familiar, ask me any questions now.” 

Jim nodded silently and climbed in. She seemed to pick up on his apprehension. “This tractor is almost impossible to break and the worst thing you could do is plant too many seeds- and that’s not exactly the end of the world, Tyler.” 

He nodded and looked at what she’d showed him before deciding he understood. “So I just… drive over where you plowed yesterday?” 

“That’s exactly it,” she grinned at him. “If you need anything, have any problems, I’ll be in the barn.” 

Jim nodded, still not feeling too sure he should be in charge of the tractor, but she seemed determined to give him this job and he wasn’t about to fight her on what his responsibilities were in this place. It was jerky at first, and Jim was gripping the wheel a little too tightly. After a few rows however, he began to loosen up when he realized he was keeping straight lines and nothing felt like it was about to tip over or careen out of control. 

Ten rows in, he fell into the pattern and began to enjoy the peace that came from performing a task that didn’t take too much thought. 

Halfway through the field, he remembered why he didn’t like time to himself. He’d started thinking about his mother, about Ty, and about what was going to happen when Georgie and Hutch found out about him. 

Jim let his dark thoughts consume him until about the last third when he shut the tractor off and headed for the barn. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw a police car parked in the road and ducked around the back of the barn. His heart was racing and his chest was growing tight. Had they turned him in? Hutch had been gone on a lot of business trips, but they had made that seem normal. Jim had seen the way they operated- Georgie doing a lot of the repair and maintenance and Hutch courting buyers and tours. That was how they paid for the farm, mostly. They didn’t have many buyers, but they received handsome subsidies for running tours for local schools. (Sometimes students even came from out of state to see how farms operated.) Hardscrabble Farm was a living museum and Georgie and Hutch were its loving curators. 

Knowing he had to do something besides hide and wait to be found, Jim began to peer cautiously around the corner. The car was empty. He hadn’t heard a door close, so it had to have been shut the whole time. He hadn’t been seen, not yet. Cautiously, Jim climbed up on the stack of firewood being careful not to unbalance any of it as he looked in the window of the barn. Georgie was in there with a police officer. He couldn’t make out what they were saying and it was too far away to read their lips. 

Jim got down, not wanting to chance that the officer would look up and see him. Jim didn’t know why the police were here, but he was sure it had to do with him. 

Jim waited anxiously and tried not to panic. He could hear their voices, but not what they were saying until they started to leave. “We’ll keep our eyes open, officer, but I don’t know a single youngster who’s going to run away to a farm,” she chuckled. “No screens, no replicators… just hard work.” 

“Well, this young man might not be by himself,” the officer informed her. “We have reason to believe he was abducted. The uncle was found murdered, probably tried to stop whoever was after the kid.” 

“That’s awful,” Georgie said in a voice that sounded like the wind had gone out of her. Jim pressed himself hard against the back of the barn. His whole world was crumbling. What was she going to think? 

“All I’m saying is, be careful. Whoever took the kid is probably dangerous if not armed, and some place remote like this… Just keep your eyes open. And give Hutch my regards. I got a few more house calls to make about this.” 

They exchanged a few more pleasantries, named some people Jim wouldn’t remember, and finally he heard the vehicle leave, gravel churning under the old-fashioned tires. 

Once the gravel sounds died away, it was quiet for at least a full minute before Georgie started toward the field. She stopped when she saw the abandoned tractor and, in spite of his efforts to hide, she turned back toward the barn and saw him. 

Jim was frozen, staring at her in open terror for a full five seconds before she took a step toward him and he _bolted_.

“James, wait!” she called after him and all the air left his lungs. 

Whether it was the shock of hearing his real name or the fact that he truly didn’t want to go (and where would he go anyway?) he listened to her. He watched as she caught up to him and let her take his hand as if it gave him an excuse for why he wasn’t running again. 

“So you are the one they’re looking for,” she confirmed. He nodded slowly, afraid of where this was going. “Is someone after you?” He shook his head. “Did someone take you?” He shook his head again and she hesitated. They both knew what she was trying to figure out how to ask. 

“It was an accident,” he strangled out. “He- he was hitting me and I j- I just wanted him to stop, so I shoved him and h-he fell.” 

He was spared the indignity of telling more of his story as she wrapped him in a hug. Jim was shocked to realize he was crying. Why was he crying over Asshole? How many innocent children had he killed and he was crying because he’d killed someone like that? He wasn’t sad the man was dead, couldn’t be. So why the hell was he crying? 

He clutched Georgie as she rubbed his back and let him cry himself dry. She pet his hair a little and as miserable as he was, as hard as he was crying, it was nice. It was nice to be treasured like this, and Jim let himself have it for a little while before pulling away and wiping his eyes, slowly getting himself under control. “Please don’t send me back, please.” 

“Okay,” she said though it clearly pained her to do so. “But you’ve got to be honest with us, James.” 

“Don’t call me that,” he said a bit more vehemently than he meant to, causing her to miss a beat. 

“Sweetheart, I understand why you lied, I really do. But Officer Holden said you have a mother looking for you.” 

Jim pressed his lips together. He felt guilty, he really did, but he couldn’t face her. Part of him wanted to tell Georgie that his mother was like Asshole, but he couldn’t even pretend something that awful. His mother didn’t deserve that. “She didn’t know about any of it,” he told her honestly. “But I can’t go back, and she can’t know where I am. Maybe- maybe some day, but right now I don’t want to see her.” 

“Why not?” 

“Because she looks at me like I’m broken.” 

Georgie gave him a sad look. “You don’t think she’ll be worried?” 

“She’s going to be worried no matter what.” 

“Even if you’re home safe?” 

“She’ll be off world again in a month,” he shrugged. 

Georgie nodded. “Our son is in Starfleet, too,” she told him and suddenly Jim understood. She and Hutch probably missed having a son around, so they didn’t ask too many questions- until they found out someone was missing him. “We miss him every day, and the worst feeling in the world was when we didn’t know if he was okay. He was on a mission where his ship was attacked and for days, there was no survivor list, so we had no idea if he was okay.” 

“I’m sorry,” Jim said. “I can’t imagine that, and I know it seems cruel, but I honestly think it’s better this way.” 

“What could be worse than not knowing if your son was alive or dead?” 

“Seeing him be both.” Jim bit the inside of his cheek and looked away. “If you want to tell her, I can’t stop you. And I guess it’s not like I can just finish the field and have us keep going like it was, but… I don’t know. I’m just going to run again if you send me back.” 

She squeezed his arm. Jim had no idea what she was thinking and it didn’t help that she changed the subject. “Let’s leave the rest of the planting for tomorrow and get dinner going.” 

Jim’s stomach was in knots and he wouldn’t be able to eat the dinner, but she’d implied that the planting would get done tomorrow, presumably by him, even if she hadn’t explicitly stated it. He just had to hope that she wouldn’t turn him in. Jim didn’t want to run anymore. 

Once they’d both gotten out of their muddy shoes, she sent him for a shower and he almost objected. Jim was afraid now, terrified of what she would do when he wasn’t in the room. Would she call the police? Jim showered quickly and got dressed, barely bothering to run a comb through his hair before he was downstairs. 

She pushed a bowl of vegetables to him and a silver tool he didn’t recognize. “Have you seen whole carrots before? Well, hold them at the base and push the peeler away. Like this.” She grasped the carrot and began to peel it quickly and expertly until it was smooth. “Just get the skin off. You don’t want to peel it down to nothing. I’ll be back once I wash the day off.” 

That was something Georgie said that Jim liked. “Wash the day off” like a shower could wash away anything that was wrong. It didn’t work for Jim, but he probably wasn’t doing it right. Letting go was Jim’s weakness. It undermined him at every turn and it seemed like the people who could truly help him were all just teaching him forms of letting go. Now if only he could master one. 

Jim wasn’t nearly as good at peeling carrots as his host. The peeler kept catching and the carrots looked jagged and botched instead of smooth, but he’d managed to get half of them done by the time Georgie finished washing off the day. 

“Not bad for a first timer,” she said with a smile and it was like nothing had happened. “You finish those up and I’ll get the rest set up.” 

From the fridge, she pulled a hunk of meat that had spent most of the day thawing on the counter and began to put it in a pan along with some small potatoes and then began to slice an onion. Jim finished finally and brought her the bowl of peeled carrots which she efficiently chopped into smaller pieces and added to the pan of meat. She covered it with foil and popped it in the oven. 

“Scrabble?” she said once it was all going. 

Jim agreed, if a bit uneasily. She was being far too accommodating. It unnerved him. She set up the board and they played just like they had the day before, except there was an elephant in the room they weren’t talking about and Jim was quite certain it was sitting on his chest. 

“Are you going to turn me in?” he asked because he just couldn’t help it. 

“I was thinking we would pretend Officer Holden never came by and never said anything. When Hutch gets home, we’ll eat the roast that’s going in the oven, and he doesn’t need to know. At least for now. Does that sound alright, Tyler?” 

His heart swelled a little. He didn’t deserve someone as good as this, but Jim was trying to stop pushing good people and things away just because of that. Especially the people. They were capable of making their own choices about him and the last thing he wanted to do was convince Georgie that she should ruin his life. 

“Tyler?” 

Jim nodded hurriedly. “Yeah, sorry. Yes. Yes, that’s… alright. It’s… really good. Th-thank you.” 

She squeezed his hand. “You’re a big help, sweetheart. It’s nice having you around.” 

Jim smiled a little and then he realized they were having a moment, so he quickly changed the subject. “You might change your tune when I win this game.” 

She laughed a little and the spell was broken. Everything was okay now, and it felt okay. Hutch came in to find them in a bitter word war, a playful rivalry filling the room. “Smells good!” he announced before giving Jim a pat on the shoulder and placing a loud kiss on Georgie’s cheek. “So, who’s winning?” 

“I am,” they both said in unison. 

“I’d better get out while I can then,” Hutch teased them as he headed up to change his clothes. 

It was odd seeing the man dressed up in a suit, but apparently he wore them when he was courting clients. Even though Jim didn’t see much flannel in his Starfleet-heavy neighborhood, it seemed odd to see the man in anything else. 

Dinner went without a hitch and Jim listened passively as Hutch described the new client and Georgie told him they were going to need new wiring in the barn. It hadn’t occurred to Jim that maybe the barn had lighting. He had just assumed it was a type of historical accuracy to use the sunlight coming in through the windows. 

After dinner, Jim brushed his teeth and settled in with his PADD. He’d been reading about ancient farming, care of animals, and agriculture. Now, he was more interested in electrical engineering. Georgie and Hutch needed the lighting repaired in the barn, but it sounded like they needed something they didn’t have the money for. Well, Jim knew there were ways around everything- especially wiring. It was the middle of the night before Jim finally put his PADD to charge and shut his burning eyes. 

Georgie was gentle when she woke him the next morning, stroking his hair the way she had the day before, and Jim was still grumpy about it. “How late did you stay up?” she asked with a little chuckle. 

“Gotta get my education some time,” he mumbled as he tumbled out of bed and tried to flatten his bed head out. 

“Well, after breakfast we’ll have you finish the planting and then maybe you can get your education during daylight hours, huh?” 

“Okay,” Jim agreed easily. He considered saying more, but a giant yawn made it impossible even if he’d had something more to add. 

Jim headed out directly after breakfast to do some of the morning chores. He gave Hattie (the cow) a pat as he milked her and took the opportunity to survey the wiring in the barn. He recognized some of it, but not all of it was something he’d learned in the hours of reading and holovids he’d watched the night before. 

He was finished the tractor work in time for lunch and Georgie insisted he spend the afternoon studying. Hutch seemed to be in agreement, so Jim did as he was told. They didn’t know what he was supposed to be studying and really, Jim didn’t either. So he went back to electrical wiring and decided to spend his time studying whatever seemed most useful. By dinner time, Jim was pretty sure he could jerry-rig the lights, but he decided to finish learning the rest anyway. One of the courses was in Russian, so Jim decided to learn the language. He joined Georgie and Hutch for dinner and then got a faint grasp on the Cyrillic alphabet before going to sleep. 

Jim was going to wake up early and surprise his hosts with lighting in their barn. He smiled as rest began to claim him. 


	17. Chapter 17

Jim crouched low to the ground as he peered around the corner. 

“Four of them have claimed the stream,” he murmured to the Vulcan. “No way we can take them.” 

“I will draw them away,” his companion volunteered. “You can fill the water sack in the time it takes them to realize they are chasing nothing.” 

“What if they don’t all go?” 

The Vulcan looked at him. “I calculate a ninety-one point two percent chance that they will not split up. They can easily reclaim the water source. Their mistake would be to split their strength.” 

“What if they’re not as smart as you?” 

“I would not allow any members of my party to leave our home base if our positions were reversed. They have everything they need there. Additionally, I overheard them planning as we were transported to the course.” 

Jim gave him an incredulous look and the Vulcan raised an eyebrow and _smirked_ at him. Jim grinned in disbelief and shook his head. “Okay, but what if they catch you?” 

“They will not catch me as I will diverge from the obvious course.” 

Jim frowned, but they had no other options. They’d already confirmed that, if there were food and water sources left, they weren’t noted on the ceiling like they had been before. Explosives were, though. Weapons were cached in at least half a dozen places and Jim didn’t know what to do about it. “Okay. Just be careful because I don’t have a lighter and the flaming branch trick is probably not going to work a second time.” 

“This is an entirely new group of individuals. The element of surprise-“

“Yeah, yeah,” Jim rolled his eyes. “Just don’t get your Vulcan ass beat.” 

“I think my ass is rather a low priority in terms of-“

“You know what I meant.” 

“I can infer.” 

“Good, so keep yourself safe and I’ll get the water.” 

The Vulcan gave him a curt nod and disappeared into the trees. Jim sank down into a crouch, ready to run. It was agony, and not just because he was already dehydrated and his leg was cramping. The wait seemed to go on forever until he finally heard a Vulcan cry of pain. Even though he knew it was fake, his heart still leapt into his throat. His friend was calling for help and Jim swallowed thickly. All four of them ran into the woods as predicted and as soon as they were out of sight, Jim sprinted. He plunged the sack underwater and squeezed the air out before running the mouth back and forth to puff it up with liquid. As he turned to leave, he spotted a bag of supplies and grabbed it too. 

Jim ran, trying not to think about where his friend was or how long it would take him to get back to their hideaway. 

It so happened that he didn’t need to worry about it as he ran into Thomas and a girl he didn’t recognize. “Thomas…” Jim said hesitantly. There was no way he could kill his friend. 

“Hand me the bag and the water and I’ll let you go,” Thomas said in a flat voice. 

“I can’t do that,” Jim said slowly. 

Jim responded instinctively when the girl lunged at him, dropping the bag and punching as hard as he could while simultaneously stomping his leg forward. She went down and Jim hit her again, knowing he wouldn’t stand a chance if she made it off the ground. It made him sick, but she moved and he kicked her again. She was still as he backed up and pulled the knife from his pocket, holding it toward Thomas. “Please don’t make me fight you, Thomas.” 

There was a flicker of something in the other’s face and Jim’s hopes soared. “Flick, I don’t know what went wrong between us, but I’m sorry. Please don’t do this. We can work together. Five, Flick. Five survivors.” 

“Give me the bag, James.” 

“Flick-“

“I said don’t call me that!” he roared and lunged. Whatever surprise he was hoping would be to his advantage backfired. Jim flinched and his knife went straight to Thomas’ face. The other boy doubled over, gripping the left side of his face with red starting to paint his fingers. 

Jim dropped the knife and moved to him. “Shit, Thomas-“

“Get away from me!” 

Jim stared at his arm as Thomas shoved him, leaving a red smear of fingers behind. Jim hesitated, but Thomas lunged. Jim hit him again this time, so he grabbed the bag and the water and sprinted. 

When he got back to the cave, his Vulcan friend was already there and immediately zeroed in on the blood. “You’re hurt.” 

Jim shook his head. “It’s not mine.” 

“You’re hurt,” he repeated and took Jim’s arm. To his surprise, Jim actually had a slash in his arm and he had no idea where it came from. Had the girl had a knife? It was the arm he’d used to punch her…

The Vulcan was already pulling him into the cave and ripping a sleeve from his shirt which he then proceeded to use as a bandage. Jim felt his cheeks heating up at the almost overprotective vibe his friend was broadcasting. “What happened to your shoulder?” he asked, just to distract himself. There was a gnarly scar there that ran from the middle of his bicep around to an end Jim couldn’t see from his current angle. 

“Shrapnel from our bomb,” the Vulcan replied simply. “The wound was too deep to heal without scarring.” “Is that even possible?” “Perhaps with a better medical facility, they would have been able to prevent it, but the colony is not equipped to deal with major physical trauma. I am unconcerned with superficial blemishes, however. Especially ones which cannot be detected through a shirt. I am alive and not bleeding, which is more than can be said for you, Human.” 

“Well, I’m much more fragile than you are, Vulcan.” 

For a second, he thought he’d miscalculated, but then the other boy smirked again. “I do not think this is something to celebrate.” 

“But we just had that great bonding moment where you told me about your scar and how you don’t care about your appearance and then we had a joke about how much easier I am to kill…” The Vulcan’s face barely moved, but this time Jim knew he’d miscalculated. “Not that… Um, I didn’t mean to make it awkward.” 

“Vulcans do not _get awkward_ ,” he replied as if the very idea made him ill. 

“Okay, it’s not awkward then. Thanks.” Jim inspected the makeshift bandage. It probably wasn’t sanitary in the least, but it would stop the bleeding. Hopefully, if it got infected, they’d be out of there in time for him to not die of sepsis. 

“We will need to find a way to disinfect the wound as soon as possible,” the older student remarked as if reading Jim’s thoughts. “Without medical care, an infection could be deadly.” 

Jim was tempted to make a joke about one less kid to kill, but even he didn’t think it was funny. Jim drank some of the water and resisted the urge to use it to wash the blood from his arm. They needed every ounce of that water, and Jim could live with the gory consequences of his actions. He had to. 

“There is no need to experience guilt,” the Vulcan stated. Jim realized he’d been staring at the red streaks. 

“It was Thomas,” he said hollowly. Jim leaned against the wall and pulled his knees toward him into a chin rest. “I think he’s okay. I don’t know… There was a lot of blood.” 

The other boy didn’t reply immediately, seeming to calculate the situation. It was clear that he didn’t understand Jim’s care for his friend, but he was certainly trying. “It is clear that you would not have hurt him if you had any other option. You are not to blame for his decision to act as your enemy.” 

Jim nodded silently. It was true. The only option was to let Thomas kill him or to defend himself, and at least he hadn’t killed the other boy. Jim only wished he’d had enough time to plan, to slash him arm or something- not his face. What if he’d gotten an eye? If the medical staff here couldn’t fix a scar, what could they possibly do for an eye? Jim tried not to think about it. 

“It’s kind of weird that we’re essentially the most important people on this world to each other right now, and we don’t even know each other’s names.” 

The Vulcan inclined his head at Jim’s words. “It has, in fact, yet to come up.” 

“I kind of like it,” Jim admitted. “Nicknames are good. If you call someone a nickname, it means you’re close. Because someone has to be important to you in order to give you a name.” 

“Then I am honored to be your friend, Human.” 

Jim smiled a little. “Good. If you want, you can call me Cap. That’s what everyone else calls me.” 

“Cap?” the Vulcan echoed. 

“Nicknames are best if they’re something that makes things hard for you. Because then it’s something good instead of just all bad.” 

“Why do you dislike head wear?” 

Jim chuckled a little. “No, Cap like Captain. My father was a Starfleet captain.” 

The Vulcan gave a slight incline of his head and asked no further questions on the subject. He had clearly induced that Jim’s father was dead and assumed that was the problem. Jim had no desire to correct him, though. He hated when people knew who his father was. It was unlikely that he’d see pity in the Vulcan’s eyes, but Jim was sure he’d see something less than desirable there. That was why he loved Thomas and Tony. They had looked at him that way for approximately one minute before giving him a nickname and asking him to play a game. 

“In that case, you may continue to call me ‘Vulcan.’” 

Jim frowned. “You don’t like being a Vulcan?” 

“I would not change my Vulcan heritage. I simply find it difficult to comprehend many other cultures. Intellectually, I understand. It is the emotional components that I cannot seem to grasp. In this way, I cannot help but see myself as deficient.” 

Jim gave him a sad look. “Well, Vulcan. I think you’re perfectly sufficient. I’m glad you’re stuck with me.” 

“You believe I am sufficient because humans are biased with sentimentality.” 

“Well, I guess Vulcans aren’t sentimental, so how do you explain thinking I’m fascinating?” 

“You are unlike other humans.” 

“Humans aren’t all alike.” 

“In many ways, they are.” 

Jim scoffed. “Trust me. Humans come in many, many different flavors.” 

“Humans also tend to follow certain psychological patterns. Hence the branch of science based upon it.” 

Jim sank into himself a little. Was the Vulcan trying to say he was crazy or something? “So you’re saying I’m mentally unstable or something?” 

“On the contrary, I find you to be much more logical or mentally stable than your peers. When faced with impossible circumstances, you do not waste time worrying. You address the problem without hesitation, and you do not allow your emotions to hinder you.” 

Jim shrugged a little. “I think humans used to refer to that as sociopathy and it wasn’t considered a good thing.” 

“Sociopathy was also considered to be comorbid with manipulative behaviors. The afflicted individuals were unable to relate to their peers emotionally and had a tendency toward egocentricity, often sacrificing others for their own gain.” 

“And setting off a bomb in order t-“

The Vulcan didn’t even allow Jim to finish his thought, seeming to know exactly what the young human was thinking. “Sociopathy is considered an antiquated diagnosis that is no longer used. However, even if it were, you would not meet the criteria as sociopaths could not experience remorse. It is very clear that you do, Human.” 

Jim swallowed thickly. He was sick with remorse even though he tried not to show it. “Well, at least I’ve got that going for me, I guess.” 

The Vulcan gave him a tiny smile. “Yes, by that metric you are just like all other humans. Your extraordinary qualities lie in your ability to compartmentalize and place logic over emotionalism when necessary. In some ways, I almost envy you this ability.” 

Jim snorted. “Well, yeah, logic is the ultimate Vulcan virtue, right?” 

“That is not the ability to which I was referring.” No explanation followed and Jim was left to wonder because the Vulcan changed the subject. “I am rather concerned with your emotional state, however. It is not healthy to ignore emotions indefinitely.” 

“Isn’t that what you do?” 

“It may appear that way, but a large part of Vulcan meditation is the sorting and analysis of experiences. Vulcans do feel. We simply do not acknowledge it until it is convenient.” 

“Is there a convenient time in this… this?” 

The Vulcan inclined his head. “For me, yes. Vulcans do not sleep as much as humans. Much of the time you spend sleeping, I spend in meditation. If you are amenable, I would like to teach you more on the subject.” 

Jim nodded enthusiastically, and soon they were both mirror images of each other (though Jim was a much shorter reflection), sitting cross-legged on the dirt floor. He was supposed to pick a place, but Jim picked objects instead. Everywhere that felt like home had been taken from him, and none of them felt right. He didn’t have any special places, and there was nowhere he could imagine that he’d feel safe or calm every again. So he created a blank space and filled it with the things that held too much meaning. 

The flags that marked where they stood as they waited on the doors to close became the stakes he used to pin down important information on their survival: the weapons available to them, the days they had left before they ran out of water, the number of them that were probably still in the course. 

The cave is where he stashed his important people: Thomas, his mother, Vulcan. He let it wrap around them and shield them from everything else running wild in his head that threatened to overwhelm them and make Jim forget who and what was important. 

Finally, he gathered his anger, his uncle, the death and blood and weapons, and he put them in the trunk of the old car and sent it careening off the cliff. He didn’t need any of that and he didn’t want it. They might not stay in the quarry, but they were out of sight (or was it out of mind?) for now, and that would keep Jim level. 

They sat in silence that way for ages even after they had probably both finished processing all of the information, until finally Jim slowly blinked his eyes open. As if sensing the minute movement of Jim’s eyelids, the older boy’s eyes slotted open and met his own. 

“Did you find the method effective?” 

“I think so,” Jim replied. His voice was as relaxed as his body. He felt almost tired, except he had no desire to sleep. He just felt… calm. “Is this how you feel all the time?” 

“As I cannot experience what you are feeling, I am unable to give an informed answer to your query.” 

Jim grinned wide. “Okay, then. So what did you mean? Earlier, when you said my logic wasn’t what you envied?” 

“I do not envy. I said I almost envied it because this was the most accurate way I could convey the notion.” 

“Okay, so it’s not envy. Are you avoiding the question?” 

The Vulcan’s cheeks tinted green and Jim couldn’t help but feel a bit of a thrill at the sign of emotion. Had he embarrassed his friend? That was almost a triumph. “Avoiding the question would imply that it in some way discomfits me to-“

“You totally are!” Jim exclaimed. “I have to know now.” 

The Vulcan actually seemed to struggle for a moment and Jim wondered if his version of the car in the quarry had been dragged back out, but he didn’t seem to begrudge Jim his curiosity. “It is your ability to feel, deeply, and to balance that. I… struggle with the experience of emotion. I sort and catalogue, but I do not take the time to… experience it.” 

“Is it…? I mean, does it… hurt?” Jim wasn’t even sure what words to use. 

The Vulcan shook his head. “It is not about pain. There is a deep stigma attached to emotion and feeling in Vulcan culture. Before Logic, we were animalistic. Our emotions were so powerful that they ruled us and made us a violent people. To give in to emotion, to let it rule us for even a moment… Well, there is no greater shame for a Vulcan.” 

Jim rose to his knees, sitting on his feet as he leaned forward. “Sometimes humans feel that way too, you know.” He leaned forward subconsciously. “Humans can be ashamed of our feelings too. Maybe some day we’ll embrace Logic like you have. Our emotions rule us sometimes and it gets us in trouble. I mean, letting my anger get the best of me is how I wound up here. I shouldn’t have driven Asshole’s car off a cliff, but you know what? It felt really good to do it.” Jim was grinning now, and he wished he could share it with his friend. 

“I cannot fathom a situation in which being out of control would be… enjoyable.” 

Jim shrugged. “Maybe it’s just a human thing.” 

“Perhaps.” 

The conversation seemed to die then and there, so Jim gave voice to what he’d decided as he was piling things into the metaphysical trunk in his head. “We need to talk to the other kids.” 

“They will surely attempt to kill us.” 

Jim shook his head. “They don’t want to kill us any more than we want to kill them. The problem is that no one has any other options.” 

“There are none. This is what I believe humans refer to as a ‘no-win’ scenario.” 

“That’s what it seems like, sure,” Jim agreed. “But here’s the thing- what if no one kills anyone? What if we all refuse? We can sit in front of the door, all together, and wait. Once they see we aren’t going to break, they’ll have to do something.” 

“And what if they do nothing?” 

Jim shook his head. “No, they want some of us to live. Kodos is human, and humans believe children are the future. He won’t want to kill the future. Besides, how do we know they won’t just put us back in here again for a sixth round? No, what we have to do is band together.” 

“I suppose it is worth the effort, but it is equally likely that they may try to starve us out. There are no food stores this time.” 

“There’s a water source, and I’m sure someone in here knows enough about botany to figure out what we can eat without poisoning ourselves.” 

The Vulcan seemed to ponder this. “I suppose it cannot hurt to attempt. However, it only takes one weak link to break a chain.” 

Jim nodded. “That’s a risk I’m willing to take. I really don’t think anyone wants to kill anyone else. I think we’re all tired, and I think we all want another answer. So this is it… This is… the other answer.” 

It wasn’t perfect, and Jim was far more terrified than he was letting on, but his compatriot didn’t seem to think he was being completely ridiculous, and that bolstered him. This could work.


	18. Chapter 18

Fixing the lighting in the barn had been a great surprise, but unfortunately Georgie was right. It needed new wiring. Jim had fixed it half a dozen times in half as many months and it was only getting worse. Jim had jerry-rigged and re-worked it so many ways that he was perpetually sure he couldn’t do it again. This last time, Jim told Hutch that it was starting to get dangerous. The number of work-arounds he’d put in was slowly becoming a fire hazard. The barn needed new wires. 

Finally, he’d been gifted new materials and he’d been at work for two days. It hadn’t been easy convincing them to let him take on such a big, important task, but he’d shown them his scores. He’d mastered just about every course on electricity and took another on building codes while Hutch read over his shoulder. The only course he hadn’t gotten the perfect score on was the Russian because he’d misinterpreted a question. 

It was hard work tearing out all of the old wiring and even harder putting the new in. Jim had never done anything this involved and he was determined that it would be absolutely perfect. The last thing he wanted was to burn down the barn of the two farmers who’d essentially saved his life. By mid-afternoon, the barn had grown a bit too warm- especially up in the hay loft. The stuff seemed to absorb and multiply heat and, without any working electrical wiring, the air conditioning he’d never noticed before it was gone couldn’t run. 

Jim wiped the sweat from his face onto his sleeve as he headed toward the house for some water and a quick break when he overheard them. He wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, but Hutch was practically shouting. “He has a mother! How can you of all people keep a son from his mother?!” 

Jim felt his knees go weak. Had she told him? He couldn’t hear her response and decided to just go back to the barn and drink from the hose. He turned one of the logs onto its end and used it as a chair as he hid around the back of the barn. So many horrifying and terrible things had happened to Jim in his fifteen years of life and none of them currently terrified him more than going back into that house. Hutch sounded angry. He sounded like someone that was going to send Jim away. 

Jim sat there for several minutes as it grew harder to breathe. He had to do something, so he pulled off his shirt, bent over and turned the hose over his head and shoulders like a shower. He’d been expecting cool water, but what came out was scalding. He should have realized the hose was full of water and it had all been baking in the sun. Jim watched the hot water spill, wasted, onto the ground and then realized the shock had helped. He turned it back on himself and tensed as it burned his shoulders. He began to get used to the temperature as his skin turned a mild red and waited as it finally began to cool and soothe his skin almost to its normal color again. 

Once the water was cool enough, Jim drank some and returned to sitting on his log as the water dripped down his spine and settled uncomfortably into his waistband. He turned off the water and let his hair start to dry before deciding to get back to work. He went at it even harder than before, determined to convince Hutch not to send him away. 

That was where the man found him. He seemed calmer than when Jim had overheard him, but it still chilled Jim to the bone to hear him say, “Come on down. Have a talk with me.” 

Jim took his sweet time climbing down the ladder from the loft and sat awkwardly on the milking stool that Hutch pointed to while he turned over an empty crate. “There’s no easy way to say this, son, but-“

“You’re sending me away,” Jim nodded. He couldn’t look at the older man. 

“What makes you say that?” 

“I overheard you. I- I didn’t mean to, it’s just you were yelling… I turned back around, so I wouldn’t…” Jim shrugged. It didn’t matter. Hutch was sending him away and they’d never see each other again, so what did it matter what he thought of him? “If- if you’re willing to wait, I can probably finish the new wiring in a couple days.” 

“James, you-“

“Tyler,” Jim interrupted vehemently. 

Hutch sighed. “You lied to us.” 

Jim shrank into himself. “You would’ve turned me in.” 

“How could you know that?” 

“That’s what you’re going to do now,” Jim pointed out. “Why would you do any less for a kid you didn’t know?” 

Hutch sighed heavily. They both knew he was right. “Your mother is looking for you, son. From what you told Georgie, she’s a good woman and it’s just plain unkind to let her wonder after you.” 

“She’s not even on the planet right now,” Jim said. “She’s in Starfleet, like your son.” 

Hutch stiffened at that. “You think she’d leave not knowing about her boy? Do you know how I found out about you? There was a vid at the diner in town. Your mother asking your kidnapper to bring you back. We won’t kick you out, but your mother needs to know about it, James.” 

“Don’t call me that,” Jim repeated. He didn’t respond to the rest. He couldn’t, so he focused on the name. 

“I’m not calling you Tyler. It’s not your name. If you want to stay here, you do it honest.” 

Jim met his eyes. “Fine. Jim then, but not James.” 

“Jim it is. Now, we’ve already let the Sheriff know you’re here. Haven’t told him how long it’s been or anything else yet. Truth is, we shouldn’t have let you stay without asking more questions, but the farm’s been empty for so long, you see. Just me and Georgie for years…”

“Your son doesn’t ever visit?” 

Hutch gave him a long, hard look. For the first time, Jim could actually see age in him. “Our son was killed in the line of duty.” 

Jim’s lips parted in shock. Georgie hadn’t said he’d been okay and he should have realized. He’d just been so scared of what was going to happen he hadn’t picked up on it. “I- I’m sorry, I didn’t know.” 

Hutch nodded a little. “No, Georgie wouldn’t have told you. She’s stronger than me in so many ways, but losing Charlie… she never could face that. Having you around has been good for her. Farming is lonely work, and with me out courting clients half the time… Well, honestly I was glad to know someone else was around. Having another pair of hands to work wasn’t bad either. And, Jim, you’re smart. What you’re doing up there… That’s impressive. It’s extraordinary. You shouldn’t be that skilled this young.” 

Jim shrugged. “I don’t really like sleeping. I like to keep my mind busy. Plus the barn needed fixing.” 

Hutch only chuckled a little and Jim felt a little better, even if he was still nervous about his mom. Hutch reached a hand out and patted Jim’s knee. “Your mother’s going to be here in the morning. You’re welcome to stay, but we won’t go against her wishes.” 

Jim felt nauseated at the thought, but even worse was what Hutch had made him realize. “I’ll tell them I was hiding out, or that I just got here a couple days ago. I don’t want you to get in trouble.” 

Hutch shook his head. “I said if you stay, you stay honest,” Hutch told him. “What kind of man would I be if I lied just to avoid consequences? If you learn nothing else from us, learn that dishonesty always bites you. Honesty might get you in trouble, but dishonesty always makes it worse. No matter how well crafted a lie is, it’s always going to fall apart. Get me?” 

Jim nodded. “No more lies.” 

Hutch gave him a smile that Jim took with him the rest of the day. When night came, it was harder to summon up. He spent the night reviewing his Russian and started in on Mandarin. The more he studied languages, the easier it became to devour a new one. When he finally could resist sleep no longer, he had his first nightmare in months. It starred Asshole and a quarry full of Tarsus IV memories. He woke in a sweat with tears running into his pillow. It was late enough that he figured he might as well shower and get dressed. There was no point trying to sleep again. 

Jim headed out to feed the animals (even the chickens, which he’d finally gotten used to), collect the eggs, and milk the cow. The sun was up by the time he headed inside with the bucket of milk and basket of eggs. This had become his responsibility in the morning as he’d grown comfortable with the task. It really didn’t need more than one person, and it freed Georgie for other things. Jim liked doing more so she could do less. 

He didn’t make it to the house. A police vehicle pulled up and his mother was out of it before the Sheriff could even turn the engine off. He forced himself to look her in the eye and gave her an awkward smile as she ran up to him and began touching his face and hugged him so hard that some of the milk splashed out of his bucket. “You’re okay, Jim, you’re okay,” she murmured before pulling back to cradle his face, checking again for injury. “Did they hurt you?” 

“What? No!” 

“Who took you then? How did you get away?” 

Jim was spared the terror of explaining outside as Hutch came out to meet them. “There’s breakfast inside,” he offered. “How about you both come in and sit while we talk, Sheriff?” 

Jim glanced over at the Sheriff with trepidation. They were going to make him talk about Asshole. They wouldn’t jail him for an accident, but they weren’t going to believe it was self-defense if he didn’t explain how his uncle had been to him. 

He kept his eyes on his toast for as long as he could. He wondered if his mother would be proud if she knew that the toast they were eating was made from bread that Jim had made with his own hands. He felt proud of it. She didn’t eat any of it. 

From the moment Hutch revealed he’d found Jim sleeping in a ditch, his mother seemed more and more mortified. He guessed she was thinking that she’d failed. He could only imagine what she thought of him, running away, sleeping in a ditch rather than talk to her. 

“I still don’t understand,” she said when Hutch finished. “Why didn’t you come back home when you escaped?” 

“I…” Jim swallowed. If he wanted to stay, he had to do it honest. “No one took me. A- Uncle Frank, um. It was an accident. And I- I panicked, and I didn’t know what to do, so I- I ran.” 

“You…?”

Jim didn’t want to tell her. “I wanted him to- to leave me alone, and I pushed him and he fell.” 

She looked appalled and her face was pallid, but Jim was sure this had to be better than telling her that he’d been abused and she hadn’t noticed. It wouldn’t matter that Asshole had been good at hiding it. Jim knew his mother, and she’d find a way to blame herself. She’d find something about him that she just _should have realized_ was a sign. 

“And?” Hutch pressed. Jim looked at him with pleading eyes, begging him not to do this thing that would hurt his mother. 

“He hits me,” Jim said in a quiet voice. He didn’t even noticed that he was talking in present tense. “He was hitting me and he wouldn’t stop, and this time… I hit back.” 

The Sheriff was sitting up very straight and his mother had gone still. Jim couldn’t tell what she was thinking, so he forced himself to stop trying. “And it was an accident?” the Sheriff asked him. 

Jim swallowed again and nodded. The Sheriff seemed determined to get on Jim’s bad side as he added, “You’ll pardon me if I’m a bit skeptical since you’ve killed before.” 

Even Jim’s mother reacted to that. She didn’t know anything about Tarsus IV and this Sheriff shouldn’t either. That file should have been sealed. No one should even know he was on that planet without high level clearance. Jim’s knuckles went white and his nails dug painfully into his palms under the table. “Have you ever killed anyone, sir?” 

“No.” 

“Have you ever shot anyone?” Jim pressed. He felt cold rage that this man would sit there and judge him. 

“Once.” 

“Why?” 

“To save lives.” 

“Would you have killed him if you had to?” 

The Sheriff bristled at the comparison Jim was making. “I would not have had to. I exhausted every de-escalation method I could, from talk to warning shots.” 

“What if he hadn’t gone down?” Jim insisted. “What if he kept threatening, what if the only way to stop him was to kill him?” 

“Now, listen here-“

“That file was supposed to be closed. Not even my mother knows what happened, so I don’t know what you’ve heard, but you don’t know anything. You don’t know anything about me or anyone else on that planet.” 

The Sheriff seemed to darken even more against Jim. “Sit down, young man.” Jim hadn’t even realized he was on his feet. “Georgie, Hutch, you’ve been harboring a deeply disturbed young man these past few months and I can’t-“

“Excuse me,” Jim’s mother finally interrupted. “But that is my son you are talking about and he is right. You don’t know him. My son is not a killer. He’s a good person.” 

“He killed about a dozen kids on that planet,” the Sheriff informed her heartlessly. “And then he killed your brother.” 

“Every single kid who survived Tarsus IV killed other kids,” Jim informed the Sheriff. “That’s what happened. That’s what they didn’t tell anyone about Governor Kodos. That’s what’s classified.” 

Jim was shaking and tense with fury. There wasn’t nearly enough detail in what he’d said to let on what had happened, not really. He wanted to say so much more, tell this know-it-all sheriff every last detail, asked him if he could have avoided killing as long as Jim had, if he would have managed to keep a level head if he’d been in that situation as a kid, if he’d ever watched someone he loved die. He couldn’t tell them any of that, though. It was classified along with all the information about the mold and Jim didn’t know what they’d do to him if he leaked it, but he couldn’t be locked up. Not ever again. “I have work to do,” he muttered as he kicked his chair back. 

“Not so fast,” the Sheriff said. “You’re a suspect in a murder investigation, you can’t-“

“Fine, then I’ll be upstairs cooling off before I say something really rude.” 

Jim hurried out of the room, unable to stand it. He purposely avoided looking at Georgie and Hutch. They read the headlines each morning. They only had one PADD between them, but they kept up enough. They knew Tarsus IV and they knew Kodos the Executioner. Well, now they knew why Jim was how he was. 

As soon as he was alone, he kicked the bed so hard he had to walk it off, but it had done the trick. The pain had snapped him out of it so now he was just numb again as he laid down and opened up his PADD. He’d been reading about xenolinguistics and other major courses of study. None of them really appealed. Jim was still drifting, unable to find anything that he really wanted to do with his life. Right now, the farm was as close as he could get. He wanted to get back out to the barn. He had almost finished in the loft, and it was going to kill him if he got taken away before he could finish. Sure, they had customers and tours, but Jim knew they couldn’t afford to hire an electrician for the barn. It was basically an antique, so a specialist would be needed- and specialists were expensive. 

An hour passed before the door shut and Jim heard the car driving away. Another half hour passed before he heard footsteps on the stair and there was a gentle knock on the door. He didn’t answer and it opened anyway. “Jim?” 

His mother didn’t wait for a response before sitting on the edge of the bed and stroking his hair. “They’re still willing to let you stay,” she told him quietly. “It’s alright with me if you want to. I miss you, but I want you to be happy, okay? If you’re happy here, then you should stay. Georgie and Hutch seem like good people, and they want you to be happy, too.” 

Jim turned and looked at her, truly looked at her for the first time in what felt like his whole life. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I don’t know why I ran or why I… It’s like I have this anger and it doesn’t go away and I don’t know what to do about it.” 

She stroked his hair some more and Jim felt unbelievably loved as she gazed at him. “It’s okay. It’s not your job to work this stuff out. Your job is to be a kid, okay?” 

Jim bit the inside of his cheek. “Is it okay if I’m just Jim? I don’t think there’s any kid left in me.” 

She gave him a watery look and nodded. “You be Jim. Just don’t shut me out again, okay? Don’t leave me behind. And don’t worry about the Sheriff. We had a good talk and everything is worked out. Because that’s my job. I’m the mom. I work the stuff out.” 

Jim gave her an uncertain smile and she returned it. “Thanks,” he said quietly. 

She kissed him on the forehead. “I hear you’ve been doing some pretty advanced work in the barn. Do you feel up to showing off or would you rather be alone?” 

Jim was about to choose the latter, but he realized he did sort of want to show off. Especially for his Starfleet mother. Even if he’d run away and shut her out, he still craved her approval and he could already tell his electrical work was going to get plenty of it. 


	19. Chapter 19

The remaining kids all sat at their flags by the entrance in silence. They were all still wary of one another and Jim hoped it would get better as the time passed. How much time would pass, he didn’t know. It felt like hours had gone by even though it couldn’t have been more than one. It was hard to tell in the course, where the sun never set anymore or even seemed to move. Still, they had to realize what the kids were doing by now. 

Not everyone had come easy. The five kids by the water almost killed the Vulcan and Jim, and their leader hadn’t been willing at all. Jim could still hear the horrible sound of his skull cracking as the other water kids mutinied. Apparently they were willing to kill at least once more in order to stop the bloodshed. It still hurt to breathe where they’d beaten him before he could convince them to parley. 

The girl Thomas was with had dumped him by the door, but he was still alive so it hadn’t opened. Jim was simultaneously relieved and horrified. His friend was suffering and in pain at the head of the circle near the door and they could all hear his occasional pained groan as he drifted in and out of consciousness. 

There were six others that Jim didn’t really know, but he’d made a point to learn their names. There were five humans: Frances, Terence, Yolanda, Teresa, and Colin. The last was a J’naii called Lin. All of them were older than Jim. In fact, most of them only seemed willing to listen because he was so much smaller than them. No one wanted to kill him. He guessed that was a good thing. 

The lack of movement was starting to make Jim cold and his joints were getting stiff, so he stretched his legs out. “I really hope I’m not wrong about this,” he murmured just loud enough for the Vulcan to hear. “What if you’re right and they don’t open the doors? What if they just wait for us to either starve or turn on each other?” 

“It is not productive to worry about that,” the Vulcan remarked shortly. 

Jim twisted in his spot and contemplated standing to get the blood flowing back into his limbs. “It’s kind of hard not to. What else am I supposed to think about?” 

“You could meditate.” 

“I really don’t think I could,” Jim admitted. “My brain is too full.” 

“Try.” 

Jim sighed and did, but he was too distracted by the lack of sound and the stiffness in his joints. After several minutes, it was too much and he stood up for a proper stretch and jogged and jumped around a little. He should have done it earlier, but he’d wanted to remain sitting, still, the perfect picture of heels metaphorically dug in to decision. He plopped back down once he felt better and glanced around the circle. They had all watched him get up and act ridiculous because there was nothing else to do. Jim smirked as Terence got up and did a few jumping jacks. 

“This will certainly be more efficient than starving us,” the Vulcan commented and Jim gave him an inquiring look. “The temperature is dropping. You hadn’t noticed?” 

Jim paled and looked at him in horror. “I thought it was just because I was sitting still.” 

Jim looked around the circle again. Teresa watch clutching her elbows and Lin looked to be shivering. The Vulcan glanced sideways at him and then turned his attention back to the circle. “It seems to have leveled off, but they have most certainly brought the course down two to three degrees.” 

“Why aren’t you shivering?” 

“Vulcans run warmer than humans and our temperature self-regulates much more efficiently.” 

Jim shuddered a little and tried to resist the shiver he could feel building. “I don’t guess they wrote ‘blankets over here’ anywhere on the ceiling?” 

The Vulcan shook his head. “If-“ They all turned toward the door as it cracked open. Jim was on his feet and so were most of the others. 

Instead of opening all the way, a tube was pushed through the door and it began to hiss. They were pumping something into the course. Jim looked to his friend in fear. Were they being poisoned? Near the entrance, the water kids began to cough slightly. It traveled around the circle and Jim felt it too. It made his lungs itch like they were full of cotton and then it became impossible to breathe through his nose. It was like a cold. Had they been infected with a virus? He cleared his throat a little and blinked blearily. His head was already stuffing up. Whatever this was, it worked fast. He swayed unsteadily and returned to sitting. 

“Cap?” the Vulcan asked uncertainly and touched his shoulder. 

“How come you’re not sick?” Jim asked in a voice that was practically a whine. The ground felt like it was moving underneath him and he could barely focus on the Vulcan for answers, but he was doing his best. The older boy wasn’t meeting his gaze though. He was more interested in surveying Jim for symptoms, and Jim was coherent enough for that still, though he was feeling fuzzier by the minute. “It feels like a cold, my lungs feel like they’re full of cotton, my head’s stuffy, and the ground is moving…”

The Vulcan gave him a short nod as he felt Jim’s forehead and neck. Jim leaned into the warmth of the fingers on his neck and let his eyes drift close. “Cold,” he mumbled mostly to himself. 

“Are you in any pain?” 

Jim shook his head but then he realized his neck muscles hurt. He started to nod before remembering that hurt, so he moaned out a, “Yes, make it stop…”

Jim’s stomach heaved and his throat burned with the acid of an empty stomach. He whimpered and curled in on himself, pulling free of the older boy’s grip. Briefly, he wondered if it was this bad for everyone else or if it was worse for him because he was small. 

Suddenly, there was warmth. The Vulcan had pulled him into a hug, cradling him into his chest and Jim didn’t even have the self-awareness to be ashamed as he buried his face into the warmth. This was at least marginally better, but he was so cold and everything was spinning and his body ached more every second. 

Things were starting to fade and Jim knew he was losing consciousness. Something strange was happening, though. Maybe it was just that he was dizzy, but it felt like the Vulcan was shivering, just a little. Jim didn’t have the presence of mind to think about it and he drifted in and out of consciousness for more time than he could track. 

When he finally woke on steady ground, he was alone and covered in leaves. The Vulcan had dug him a small pit and insulated him with the foliage. Slowly, still feeling weak, Jim sat up and began to dig himself out of the mess. There were pits for all of them. He’d been out for a very long time, then, if his friend had somehow managed to dig each of them a bed like this. Suddenly, there he was, looming over Jim with an expression that should have been stony but looked strained. “You’ve been busy,” he remarked groggily. He squinted at the other beds. Most of them were empty now. “They should really put a shovel in here with the amount of digging we have to do…”

Jim started to get up and immediately collapsed. Thankfully, his friend seemed to be expecting this and caught him as if he weighed nothing. He probably weighed far less than he had before this debacle. “You should rest further. Most of the others found that lucidity returned much sooner than their strength.” 

Jim shook his head. He didn’t want to lie down any more, especially not in a pile of itchy leaves. His body betrayed him, shivering a little now that he was out of the pit. He was powerless to fight as the Vulcan buried him in leaves again. “The others are gathering water and searching for viable food sources. Rest. I’ll watch over you, Cap.” 

Jim snorted a little. “I was wrong. It sounds weird when you call me Cap.” 

“Would you prefer something else then, Human?” 

Jim smiled a little as he shut his eyes. “Maybe just Jim.” 

“Very well, Jim. Rest, please.” 

Jim nodded and turned a little so he could curl up on his side. There was no objection, but the older boy was fussing with the makeshift blanket again since Jim had disturbed it somehow. It shouldn’t have been easy to fall asleep, but it was. When Jim woke again, he was surprised to realize he’d been asleep and that water had been left for him. There was a pile of foliage in the center of the circle that no one seemed to be eating. He approached with a question on his face and they answered quickly enough.

“I’m pretty sure it’s the same leaf in this Andorian salad I ate once, but Yolanda says it’s this poisonous tree that grows on Tarsus III.” Jim stared at the water kid as he explained and shrugged. 

“I don’t recognize it at all,” he admitted and everyone deflated. 

“Not like we expected you to know, but we were hoping someone knew for sure,” Terence told him. 

Jim nodded. He still felt bad that he’d been the last resort except for one of the water kids who was still sick in the pit the Vulcan had dug him. And Thomas, who seemed to be consistently unconscious but unwilling to release his grip on living. 

“Well, only one way to find out,” the water kid who’d been sure it was an Andorian leaf said and shoved a fistful in his mouth before any of them could stop him. “Tastes right,” he said as he chewed and Jim cringed. In spite of the student’s enthusiasm, none of them seemed eager to join the test. “What, you lot aren’t hungry?” 

Reluctantly, the other two water kids reached out and took a handful and began to chew with obvious trepidation. Jim knew they were loyal to each other, but this seemed crazy. No one seemed willing to stop them though, and he couldn’t bring himself to either. 

Nothing happened and the trio ate several more handfuls, looking content. Jim’s stomach grumbled impatiently as if to ask what his problem was. He glanced at everyone else. They were clearly all thinking the same thing. Even Yolanda looked ready to dig in, and she was the one who’d been sure it was poisonous. Just as they seemed to reach a consensus, the first water kid made a face. 

“Shit,” he said, and his face contorted in pain. “Shit, I… shit.” 

They all watched as he clutched his stomach and as the pain seemed to intensify. At this rate, they wouldn’t need to be starved out. They were going to accidentally all kill themselves. He stood, wanting to run to the door, bang on it, call for help. No help would come though, and he knew it. The goal was for most of them to die. 

“Throw it up!” Jim yelled at them. They just gave him blank, horrified looks, so he dropped to his knees in front of the nearest one and grabbed her hand, shoving it into her mouth until she gagged. The other two clued in, and did the same. The first kid was wheezing and Jim had a bad feeling about what that meant. All three of them were choking, and it seemed to be almost impossible to empty their stomachs. Water was heaped onto them and they would drink and empty their stomachs over and over, eventually on reflex as their bodies tried to undo the damage of what they’d eaten. Finally, all three were quiet and laid down to rest. The remaining students moved away to give them peace while they rested. 

“Their chances of survival are very low,” the Vulcan confided in him. If any of them make it, it will be thanks to you.” 

“We all helped,” Jim replied. It frightened him to think that five of their number were sick in some way. 

“True,” the Vulcan agreed. At least he was starting to understand how much Jim hated any kind of attention or praise. 

Jim sighed as they sat at their flags. “They’re not going to let us out,” he uttered. “They infected us with something, except… Did you even get sick?” 

“No,” the Vulcan confirmed. “On consideration, I realized that bodily temperature was the key. As I tend to be about two degrees warmer, the difference had to be very little. The fact that they dropped the temperature before introducing the pathogen seemed to support my theory, so I did my best to keep you warm. You seemed to respond well, so I applied the same solution to everyone.” 

Jim nodded. “That’s really… logical.” 

The Vulcan only nodded again and they lapsed into silence. Jim wasn’t sure if it was awkward or not. “Jim, the other day you said you felt as though we were brothers. Were you being literal or was this an example of human hyperbole?” 

Jim grinned at the loquacious question. He wondered if the Vulcan was embarrassed (or whatever was the Vulcan equivalent) of the query. “I was being literal. I’ve lost count how many times we’ve saved each other’s lives at this point. I trust you more than anyone else on this planet. Maybe even off the planet.” 

“Then, I think it would be alright if you called me T’hy’la.” 

Jim repeated the name, thinking it sounded a little girly, but reminding himself that Vulcan was not only a different culture but an entirely different planet. “T’hy’la. Ty’la,” he slurred. “Sounds kind of like the Earth name Tyler.” 

“It is not.” 

“No, but I kind of want to call you Ty now,” Jim teased. 

“I… suppose that is acceptable,” the Vulcan replied in a tone that indicated he wasn’t sure if it was. 

“I don’t have to,” Jim assured him. “I wasn’t trying to… I mean, I’ll call you by your name.” 

The Vulcan shook his head. “It is alright. I appreciate the nickname. It is fitting.” 

Jim beamed at him. He’d never given anyone a nickname before. To be able to give it to someone like Vulcan- like Ty- and have him appreciate it was a glorious feeling. “Jim is a nickname too, you know. My full name is James Tiberius Kirk.” 

“Kirk,” Ty repeated as his brows furrowed and he tried to place the name. 

“Yes, the Cap I’m nicknamed for is Captain George Kirk. The one who went down with his ship.” 

“Did you not tell me nicknames are meant to be a part of you that you dislike? If your father was a hero, then y-“

“Exactly,” Jim interrupted before his father’s virtues could be extolled upon. “All my life, I’ve been George Kirk’s son, a man I’ve never met because he died within minutes of my birth. People always tell me I’m so like him, so I did everything I could to not be like him. And then they only told me how unlike him I was and what would he think of me? I can’t get away from this guy who didn’t even love me enough to stick around.” 

“I do not believe that was his intent.” 

“Yeah, I know. I get it. We would all be dead if not for his noble sacrifice. I can think of several kids who might still be alive if I had been killed fourteen years ago, so let’s not pretend-“

“Jim.” 

The sound of his true name in Ty’s voice stopped him cold. Reluctantly, he met the deep gaze of his companion and tried to hide the raw pain in his own. “I’m tired of people dying so I can live, Ty.” 

Ty did not respond immediately. He seemed torn about what the appropriate response should be and Jim looked away. They were both saved the answer as the course itself began to vibrate, rumble, and then quake. Jim could hear explosions under their feet and he looked at his friend in terror. Those who were well enough stood only to realize their mistake as they crouched to try to stabilize themselves. Jim could see in the center of the semi-circle where the ground was actually tilting in different directions and watched in horror as it began to split apart. The ground crumbled backward and he was saved yet again as his Vulcan friend yanked him backward. 

Finally, the explosions stopped and the ground began to settle. Two of the water kids had fallen and Thomas had been miraculously saved because he was so close to the door. The chasm was not a perfect circle, but it was close. This had been planned. “They’re trying to make it easier for us to kill each other,” Jim murmured. 

“So it would seem.” 

Jim felt shaky, but he couldn’t leave Thomas so close to the edge. No one helped him as he dragged the badly injured and pallid boy further from the entrance and the gaping death trap. Not even Ty. Jim was angry at them for a moment before he remembered who was really to blame. Before he knew what he was doing, he stormed over to the cameras. “We’re not going to do it!” he screamed at them, not even knowing if there was an auditory component. “Maybe you think you can starve us out or kill us off, but you’re really just torturing a bunch of kids! I know I’m not the only one who would take half a ration if it meant someone didn’t have to die! Why are you doing this, you stupid fucking bastards?!” 

Jim punched the door in anger, feeling two of his knuckles smash and suddenly Ty was pulling him away. “This is not productive, Jim,” he pointed out. 

“I know!” Jim yelled and shrank immediately when he saw the hurt look on the Vulcan’s face. “I’m sorry. I- I’m just…”

The Vulcan’s face was impassive again. “It is alright, Jim. You are under much stress.” 

“So are you.” 

“I have practiced control over my emotions. They do not affect me or my decisions.” 

Jim very much doubted that, but he didn’t feel compelled to point out that the logical thing would be to kill the weakest which was either Jim or Lin. Both of them, really. 

“They’re dead!” 

Both of them turned to look at the subject of Jim’s thoughts. Lin was kneeling next to the water kid who hadn’t woken up from the sickness they’d been infected with. She gestured to the one who’d eaten the leaves, next to the two half pits of the pair that had fallen during the quake. “Both of them. They’re dead.” 

Jim looked at the water kid who hadn’t fallen into the chasm as it crumbled open. He was the one who’d eaten the first mouthful of the poisonous leaves. Jim wondered if the other two might have survived since it had been in their systems longer. He would never know. A hand slipped into his and Jim felt a little steadier. Neither of them acknowledged the gesture. There were only ten of them left. He could see on a few of their faces the math being done. 

Teresa, the girl who’d been with Thomas, was eyeing him and Jim didn’t like the expression on her face. He released Ty’s hand to move closer to the unconscious form. She saw what he was doing and met his eyes. He’d beaten her before because of luck. They both knew he wouldn’t beat her again. Thankfully, Ty appeared at his side. Jim knew the Vulcan disapproved of his loyalty, but at least he wasn’t trying to change the human’s mind. He’d likely realized what a hopeless endeavor this was. 

Jim lurched forward with a, “No!” as Terence hit her from behind and knocked her toward the pit. Jim punched him as he kicked her, almost toppling her into the pit. “Stop it!” 

He shoved Jim hard enough that he landed on the ground. He kicked Yolanda again, but she grabbed his foot. It wasn’t enough to stop her from toppling over the edge. Jim scrambled to reach them as her weight pulled Terence over the edge. His fingers actually managed to brush Terence’s and almost hooked them, but the weight was too much and Jim was still weak from sickness, without even mentioning the malnourishment. 

He could see others fighting around the circle in his peripheral vision, but he couldn’t move. He couldn’t stop looking as Terence and Teresa fell and their forms faded in the shadows of the pit. The shout of dissent was what finally got his attention. Yolanda was yelling and trying to stop Frances and Colin from sending Lin over the edge. Ty was already running to their aid, but Frances shoved Yolanda who tripped and fell. She managed to catch the ledge and Jim finally sprang into action. The Vulcan disabled Colin with a touch to his shoulder and Frances finally backed off Lin. Jim arrived just in time to help the J’naii lift her back to solid ground. 

Frances was trying to reason with the Vulcan. “You know it’s logical,” she said. “Only two more need to go. It should be the kid that’s practically dead already and one of the weak ones.” 

“It is also logical to seek alternatives to murder,” Ty stated firmly and by the look on her face, Jim wasn’t the only one to pick up on the dark undertones in his face and voice. “You know Vulcans use logic, but you seem to forget that we also place the highest value on life. We do not consume animals, and we do not behave like them either.” 

Frances only seemed cowed by her fear of the larger student, not guilt. Jim took Lin’s hand and led them back to their corner near Thomas’ prone form. Yolanda followed as well, sitting with the pair of them as Frances was left alone. The Vulcan backed away from her before finally turning and walking toward him. Jim leapt to his feet, knowing what was going to happen even as it happened. Frances charged and there was no way Jim would make it in time. Luckily, Ty understood Jim’s action and even seemed to have been expecting her actions. He turned and with an inhuman grace, braced himself in a way that allowed him to swing her toward the trees. 

What he clearly hadn’t expected was for her to turn into it and continue past Ty and head straight for Jim who was now standing alone. He started to back up, but he could do the math quickly and he wasn’t going to escape this. His friend wouldn’t make it in time either, so all he could hope to do was take her down with him. Maybe then Thomas would get the medical attention he so desperately needed. Maybe it wasn’t too late for him. 

His face resigned, Jim gripped her arms as they came for him, focusing entirely on not letting go. Luckily, she had learned from Terence’s mistake and managed to keep them both from toppling, which provided the exact amount of time needed for help to arrive. She struggled against Jim hard and he felt his wrist snap or dislocate painfully as she crossed her hands and used one forearm like an axe. 

He knew his cry of pain was what killed her. Ty would have disabled her just like Colin if Jim had kept his mouth shut, but his agony triggered something in the alien. Jim knew that look. It was the same primal, murderous gaze he’d had when he chased that one kid down who had gone after him in the first course. Frances choked as his fingers jabbed her throat. She stumbled, trying to grab Jim. He dodged, cradling his arm to his chest and she tumbled down into the pit. He was shaking as the Vulcan approached him and touched his face. 

Calm seeped into him and then darkness. 


	20. Chapter 20

It had been a month since Jim’s mother had gone back into space. She’d stayed at the farm for three weeks before her deployment and both of their hosts seemed thrilled to have her. Winona had helped him finish the wiring in the barn and then helped with the crops themselves. Her focus was on botany, so she needed no instruction. Jim was even surprised to learn that she had grown up on a historical farm herself, so she already understood the basics of the antique equipment. 

She’d helped Jim with the animals in the morning and he’d begun to feel like their relationship could be normal again. He even missed her now that she was back on assignment. He missed that vague look of pride, like she could finally see herself in him instead of just all the ways he was or wasn’t like his father. 

“Ready to walk the beans?” Hutch asked him as he skewered three pancakes and expertly maneuvered the trio onto Jim’s plate in one fluid motion. 

Jim was trying to find the words for his question, but Hutch’s laugh indicated Jim wasn’t supposed to understand. 

“We’re going to walk the fields and pull up any weeds,” Georgie explained and Hutch gave her a playful look of disappointment. “That’s what it’s called.” 

Jim nodded, eager to get to work. They’d done this before and it was boring and exhausting, but he always felt good after. Jim packed in the pancakes and relished the feeling of fullness as he chased the last bite with orange juice. He loved that about this place. The meals were always hearty and filling. It added immeasurably to his feelings of security here. Everywhere he looked, there was something he could eat. There were bowls of fruit on the counter and a deep freezer filled with containers of leftovers, meat that could be thawed and cooked, and other various things he hadn’t explored for fear of his behavior being looked at too closely. The shelves in the cabinets were full of cereal, ingredients, and jars of preserved fruits and jellies. Jim never worried about going hungry here. He hadn’t worried before because he’d never been hungry. He’d been too full of ghosts to take pleasure in eating, but here… The work exorcised them. Hunger wasn’t the comfort it once was. Fullness was the comfort now, and everything here made Jim feel so _full_ of more than just food. 

They finished breakfast, sprayed on some sun protectant and headed out to the field, each taking a row as they started to walk and dig up the weeds they found. Some of them were almost pretty, and some would crawl up the stalks in an attempt to choke the plants the humans were trying to grow. 

They were halfway through the field when Hutch noticed a section by the woods that was looking a bit wilty. They sped up their pace and Jim arrived about a minute before they did, seeing the black rotting stalks. Some of them had progressed higher than others, but it was the rot itself that had stopped Jim in his tracks. It wasn’t what had killed everything on Tarsus, but it was just similar enough to shorten his breath and speed up his heart. 

“We’ll have to dig them all up,” Hutch sighed. “It’ll spread to the rest of them if we don’t.” 

Without noticing Jim’s distress, Hutch immediately went for the roots of the ones closest to the healthy crops. When Jim didn’t move, he looked up. “Jim?” 

Jim knew he was pale, but he swallowed and forced himself to go for the roots like Hutch was doing. His head was pounding and he didn’t quite hear Georgie bemoaning the three dozen or so plants they’d lost. She sounded muffled and Jim knew he should probably be worried about his mental state, but he was too numb with a quiet kind of panic. 

Jim dug harder and faster, letting the physical labor exhaust him until he had no more energy to be tense. He still felt like shit, but his body was calmer and that helped everything else. 

They didn’t question him on his silence, only talked about how far in they should sacrifice plants and how often they would check on it. Jim was glad for the miniature crisis to distract them from his own. By the time they broke for lunch, he was able to interact fairly normally and he was so exhausted by dinner that he skipped it entirely. This seemed to worry them a little, but like the plants near the rot in the field, they seemed to decide to monitor rather than cut away at him. 

The nightmares came back that night. He should have expected them, but after he’d related what he could of his experience to the sheriff the day his mother came back into his life and had none, he’d let his guard down. This was different, though. Jim had been up close to the mold on Tarsus IV. He’d seen the effect it had on the organisms that ate the contaminated crops. He knew all too well what eating it did even in small doses. He knew how quickly it could sweep through an ecosystem and he was rattled. 

It didn’t matter what he knew logically- that it didn’t even really look like the mold- only the fear mattered. He woke clutching his belly, screaming in agony, with no idea where he was. The hunger ate at him and he wasn’t aware of the soft sheets and bed, not in any way that mattered. It felt like he was sitting on cold stone in a small, dark cell. He could hear echoes of footsteps and the terrible grind of the heavy door being pushed open with no power to operate the mechanism to smooth it out. 

He thrashed against the arms that tried to trap him and the voices yelling at him. Until he heard the name Tyler and recognized the voice. He screamed again, but stopped fighting. Slowly he realized where he was and that he was still screaming. He tried to stop, and only succeeding in turning his screams to sobs. Both of them were there. Georgie wrapped him in her arms and Hutch was rubbing his back. He clutched the arm in front of his chest and sobbed out an apology. Nothing but reassurances came in response and they rocked back and forth as he did his best to come down from the panic attack. 

Once his cries became less loud and desperate, Hutch left and returned with some water. Jim drank it with shaking hands. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asked Jim in a way that indicated he had an actual choice. At least Hutch wanted to give him one. 

Jim let one of his arms fall from Georgie’s. “It’s classified,” he said in a small voice. “Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t.” 

“Fuck Starfleet,” Georgie spat as she squeezed Jim a little tighter. “Bunch of assholes, the lot of them.” 

Jim’s eyes widened, but he didn’t disagree with her. Neither did Hutch. Jim began to wonder if they both felt this way. It seemed like it went deeper than just this moment. They did lose their son in the line of duty. But his mother lost her husband and she still seemed to believe in them. Then again, she wasn’t here in this moment where he’d realized how fucked he truly was. He had all of this inside him, and he could never let it out except to someone with high security clearance in Starfleet- which would be someone who didn’t care or someone who just wanted to psychoanalyze him. 

The sun was starting to rise, though it wasn’t high enough yet to change the color of the sky. Georgie seemed to notice as well. “Might as well start the day,” she offered and Jim nodded. He squeezed her arm and she hugged him tight for a moment before letting go. 

It was actually a relief to realize they harbored ill will toward Starfleet. Jim had never met anyone who felt that way. In fact, he hadn’t quite realized how much of the sentiment he shared. Starfleet was a fact of life and he’d accepted it, but he wondered now if he had to. _Fuck Starfleet_. he agreed silently. 

The nightmares grew more mild and eventually faded as the rot refused to reappear on the farm. The summer was drawing to a close, which meant it was about time for the harvest to start. Jim enjoyed driving the tractor to cut it all down. He didn’t enjoy the worry he could sense from Georgie and Hutch when it rained for two days, threatening to drown the alfalfa before it could properly dry out. Thankfully, it was dry and sunny for the days following and it turned out fine. Jim loved the smell of the warm, dry hay. It itched as he helped roll the bales and he was glad that this was one of the occasions they brought in school trips for. There was no way the three of them could do it all themselves. The kids seemed to enjoy it as well. 

Jim tried not to picture them locked in a course, forced to kill each other. 

He finally noticed one who was oddly focused on his work and was less interested in playing than his peers, so Jim approached him. “Need some help?” 

Old eyes looked up at him from the kindergarten face and Jim was taken aback. The young boy looked at him for a long moment before hugging Jim. The teen recognized him and wished he hadn’t. The little boy was dressed better now. His hair was clean and so was the rest of him, but Jim hadn’t forgotten that face. “Kevin,” he intoned and the little arms tightened around him harder. 

Jim gently extracted himself and crouched down so that they were on the same level. He smiled a bittersweet smile at the little boy. “It’s good to see you.” 

Kevin gave him what was supposed to be a smile, but he didn’t say anything. The teacher approached them. “Who’s your friend, Kevin?” 

The spell was broken and Kevin looked at the teacher before bolting away. She sighed. “I don’t know what you said to him, but that’s the most anyone’s gotten out of him since he came to us.” 

Jim felt his heart break. “What do you mean?” 

“Kevin is my foster son. His parents were killed in an incident that traumatized him. He doesn’t speak and usually he’s terrified of strangers. It took me weeks to even get him to leave his room.” 

Jim didn’t want to reveal his past to this stranger, but he wanted to help the little boy and he couldn’t think of any other way to do it. “It’s because I’m not a stranger.” 

“How do you-?”

“Make sure he can reach any keypads,” Jim stated. “He won’t like being locked up unless he’s alone. If he’s alone, he’ll prefer to be in a small space where no one else can get to him.” 

Her face changed as she realized what Jim was saying. “He sleeps in the closet.” 

Jim nodded. “He was one of the ones who was supposed to be executed. I was one of the kids who hid him and snuck him food.” 

Emotions warred on her face as she tried to figure out what to say. Finally, she settled on a simple, “Thank you.” 

Jim nodded. “Do you keep food around?” 

She nodded. “I knew food insecurity might be an issue. I keep snacks in as many places as I can.” 

Approval blossomed in his chest. “I’m glad he found someone who will help him.” 

She nodded and then pulled out her PADD. “I’m going to send you our contact information.” 

Jim held up his hand. “Don’t. The sooner he forgets about that planet, the better. He’s young enough that maybe he can forget about it.” 

She pressed her lips together. “The details, maybe. Still, I’d like to keep the option available.” 

Jim gave in but only because he knew he wouldn’t have to use the information and she wasn’t going to give in without a bigger fight than he had the energy to put up. 

It turned out she was right anyway. Kevin wanted to see him. A week passed before he got a message on his PADD telling him Kevin had spoken- to request a meeting with his big brother. Jim actually cried when he read it, knowing that any other combination of words or any other kid might not have convinced him, but he wouldn’t deny Kevin a big brother. 

The boy would visit two or three times a week. He loved walking the beans, though he didn’t do much of the work. He mostly just followed Jim around like a silent shadow. Words came slowly for the little boy and then all at once. He’d talk about the farm and the plants and how much he disliked vegetables- only eating them, he assured Jim. He loved making them grow with his big brother. 

Eventually his talk turned to school and his peers and his friends. Shortly after, his visits declined to once a week and then every other week, then once a month, and then one day Jim realized he wasn’t going to hear from them again. 

It hurt more than he wanted to admit. Hutch gripped his shoulder when he caught Jim checking his PADD for new messages. They didn’t talk about it. They didn’t need to. Hutch knew how much Jim loved that little kid, but he also knew just like Jim did that distancing himself from the trauma and death was what was best for him. 

Jim felt himself starting to spiral again anyway. 


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's going to get really rough from here on out. I promise Kodos isn't as one-dimensional as he seems. I'm just not going to explain until you've forgotten i made this promise.

The six of them had made peace for now. It was getting harder. The guards (or whoever was in charge of torturing them into killing someone) had started setting off a siren every twenty minutes or so. Jim had lost count after the fiftieth went off, but all of them needed sleep. He was so hungry and tired that it put him on the brink of tears and he wanted to hit something. Once or twice, he even found himself wishing that Thomas would just die so they could get out. 

Jim leaned his head against Ty’s shoulder, listening to the sporadic conversations as they happened. Lin told everyone about their home planet and there was a very long conversation about gender- or at least it was long compared to the other conversations the children had. Jim decided it was fascinating that the culture of the J’naii was essentially the opposite of the humans’ in that the majority of their people did not have gender when the majority of humans did. He felt a pang for Mx. Leighton and lost a good portion of the discussion. 

Jim was lucky. He’d gotten at least some sleep when Ty knocked him out, but the sirens were slowly driving them all crazy. He was sad to learn that Yolanda was an orphan refugee from Bajor and that Colin had been the oldest of his siblings. Luckily for them, they hadn’t been put through this hell. Jim didn’t know when he’d started to think that execution was lucky, but it had happened. It weighed heavy on Jim that he and Ty were the only ones who hadn’t contributed anything personal to the conversation. It felt like he had to, but he didn’t want to. 

“What are we going to do?” Lin wondered aloud. 

Jim looked up at them and didn’t get up. “We wait them out. The Federation has to be on the way. They had to have sent for help.” 

“We can’t just sit here until then.” 

“No,” Jim agreed. He was so tired. “We’ll have to find food soon.” 

“I’m so tired,” Colin moaned. 

Jim met the boy’s dejected gaze with a matching one. “Me too,” he agreed. 

“It is likely that the sirens are just as loud throughout the course, but it would be worth the effort of searching for a quieter place,” Ty intoned. “Perhaps dirt walls will help. We can attempt to dig-“

They all cringed in agony as another siren shredded their ear drums. Colin actually began to cry and Jim immediately moved to hug him as he sobbed about how tired and hungry he was and clutched the slightly older boy. The others seemed to draw a bit closer and Jim saw a silent tear or two fall from Yolanda’s eyes. 

“Let’s go to the water,” Jim suggested. “We could all use some.” 

Colin sniffled and wiped his eyes as they all slowly got to their feet. Everyone was weak and Jim was left wondering again if his idea was worth it. He tried not to look at Thomas, who was somehow still alive. He’d bring back water for him, too. 

Even Ty seemed to be diminishing in strength and that worried Jim most of all. Even when he’d been hurt, Ty had still seemed so big and unmovable. To see him weaken shook Jim to his core. The three youngest of them sat by the water to drink and rest while Yolanda and Ty went in search of food. Even though Lin was probably a year older than Jim, he still somehow felt the oldest. It didn’t help that everyone had seemed to have wordlessly made him the leader. 

Jim drank until his stomach was painfully full. He knew the fullness would be eaten away by the hunger in half an hour or so, but for now he could lie back comfortably. He’d just drifted off when the siren jolted him awake. It was slightly quieter here, but not enough to get uninterrupted sleep. He ignored it and so did the other two- aside from some miserable murmurs from Colin. Twice more the siren went off before Jim realized Ty was sitting next to him and the other three had headed back to the entrance. 

“You are not alright,” Ty observed. 

“None of us are, but there’s nothing we can do about it.” 

“We can kill someone,” Ty pointed out. 

Jim shook his head. “No. No one else dies.” 

“And what if your Thomas succumbs to his injuries?” 

Jim didn’t have an answer to that. 

“Jim.” 

The younger student gave him a watery look. “We can’t,” he begged. “We just can’t. They can’t be this cruel. They can’t just keep us locked in here.” 

“They can,” the Vulcan disagreed. “They have. They are not going to break the rules, even by one.” 

“We just have to outlast them.” 

“The longer we are in here, that creates five less rations they have to worry about distributing. There are many of them. They can take shifts, and none of them are starving or dying.” 

Jim didn’t answer and Ty took pity on him. “We should return. I will give Thomas the water you have set aside for him. Please try to rest.” 

Jim nodded. Sleep would help, if he could get any. The walk back was silent torture. Jim could tell Ty wanted to argue with him some more but was holding back. The silence was somehow worse than the prodding for permission to kill someone. 

Joining the rest of the group, Jim sat instead of trying to sleep. The walk had given him a thirty-second wind and he would stay awake again. The siren went off again as if to agree that it was pointless to try to get any rest. He gave Yolanda a look when he realized she was staring at him. “Something on my face?” he joked, but he only sounded tired and miserable. 

She didn’t answer and that was when he saw the glint of a knife. “No!” Jim yelled. Ty was going to kill Thomas. He should have known. All that talk of succumbing to his injuries? Yolanda grabbed for Jim as he sprinted for his friends and he face planted as she succeeded in tripping him. Her entire weight landed on his back and he struggled as hard as he could. 

“Leave him alone!” Jim yelled. Ty turned to him, looking startled and it was so obvious and raw that even those who didn’t know him would have seen it if they’d been looking. 

Ty only looked away sadly and Jim screamed again, but this time it wasn’t a word. It was the sound of purest pain that erupted from his entire core as Ty plunged the blade into his own stomach. Yolanda was saying something about his choice, about him wanting to do this for them, and Jim howled again as Ty fell forward onto his hands. Yolanda finally released him and Jim was off like a shot. 

Every breath that cycled through Jim’s lungs was a sob. His brain was screaming no, please, don’t do this, but whatever connected it to his mouth was broken. Wrapping Ty in a careful hug, Jim pressed their foreheads together. “Ty…”

“T’hy’la.” 

Jim sobbed again. “T’hy’la,” he agreed, articulating the full name. Ty reached for Jim’s face, possibly to do more of that mind-melding thing, but there was green blood all over both of them and Jim knew it had taken all of the Vulcan’s strength as his arm wavered and dropped before it could reach its destination. He grabbed the hand in one of his own, begging, praying, anything he could think of but Ty stopped moving and his eyes closed anyway. Jim howled again, feeling his throat tear. The door opened and he heard the tail end of someone screaming, “-those damn doors open!” 

Jim fought weakly as he was torn away from Ty’s body and the man who’d been screaming kicked him mercilessly, nearly sending him into the pit. “Do you have any idea who his father is, you fucking imbecile!” he screamed at Jim. “What did you do to make him do that? You’ll have caused an interplanetary incident!” 

Jim couldn’t get air in and for a moment he thought he might die. He couldn’t breathe and one of his feet was hanging over the chasm. Then suddenly, his wind came back and he cried more. He didn’t move and a part of him knew he wouldn’t fight if this angry man decided to actually kick him over the edge. 

The man made to kick Jim in the face and seemed to think better of it. Jim didn’t even flinch. It felt like everything inside him had died. He felt like the shelled out husks of black mold that all their crops had become. Two guards hoisted Jim up and began to drag him out of the course. The angry man was growling something about locking Jim up as medics rushed in. He didn’t look at them but he knew they’d be rushing to Thomas and not his dead best friend. 

The cell they placed him in was dark and cold. Jim knew he should look for a bed or a blanket but he couldn’t bring himself to move. He stared blankly ahead into the darkness for hours or days or minutes. It didn’t matter. Eventually the man came to him. He was calmer now. He kicked Jim in the stomach and he coughed reflexively as the wind was nearly knocked out of him again. “Do you know who I am, James?” 

Jim didn’t answer. 

“I asked you a question.” 

Jim still didn’t answer. He was almost glad for the next kick. It hurt, badly, but it felt like something that should be happening to him. “I-“ another kick- “am-“ another- “Governor-“ another- “Kodos!” Two, three, four more. Jim had curled into himself a little, simply because his body couldn’t take much more and it was protecting itself without his permission. 

The man stopped and panted for a moment before regaining his composure. He crouched down and Jim didn’t even look at him. “That Vulcan should have survived this easily. Now his father, his father the ambassador from Vulcan, is going to have questions. And what am I going to tell him, you little wretch? That some stupid Terran child convinced one of his sons to sacrifice himself?” 

Jim finally started to cry. After everything he’d revealed to Ty, after telling him how sick he was of people dying for him, after telling him how much he’d prefer them to prove they love him by staying… he left Jim just like everyone else. 

“Disgusting,” Kodos bit out. He banged on the door. “I’m done. Give the little shit his ration.” 

There was just enough light as the door opened for Jim to see they had given him a plate of the infected plants. The dry, crispy husk of what was once a full and plump vegetable sat on the plate. He wouldn’t have eaten it anyway. 

Eventually, he fell asleep. He woke several times before finally dragging himself to the water and forcing some down. It made him want to vomit, but he kept it down. He remained by the door, knowing he probably shouldn’t be so close to the vegetable, but also knowing eventually he would be desperate enough to eat it so who cared if he was breathing near the mold? 

His dreams were terrible. He’d wake screaming half the time and wouldn’t realize where he was until he noticed the banging on his door and the angry calls for him to shut up. About a day after he ran out of water, he broke down and took a bite of the vegetable. It tasted like ash and went down about as easily. He forced a second bite down before he could do no more. 

It didn’t help with the hunger and he was in crippling pain within an hour. Finally, the door opened and he was hauled out. “About damn time,” the guard muttered at him. 

Jim was sweating and shivering by the time he was delivered to some kind of med bay. They strapped him to a biobed with painfully tight belting- as if he could have stood up let alone actually have walked out of the room with how badly he was shaking. 

Suddenly he saw Ty, his stomach still bleeding, his face drained of any color. “I did this for you,” he said, his eyes as dead as he was. 

“Why?” Jim cried and one of the doctors said something to him about a cure. 

“You are unworthy of my sacrifice,” Ty informed him. 

“I’m sorry,” Jim moaned. “I didn’t want this. I didn’t want it. Why did you? Why? Why?” 

He heard something about a subject experiencing hallucinations and felt a sharp pain in his neck before everything faded. 


	22. Chapter 22

Hutch hadn’t noticed the alcohol Jim had been raiding from his stash yet. He’d started small, but his tolerance had built back up and he’d done much harder things than alcohol before, so it was not much of anything to him. He always brushed his teeth and did his best not to breathe too heavily around anyone. The next time Hutch went for a drink (which was remarkably rare) he’d definitely notice. Jim had emptied an entire bottle of whiskey. It was all they really kept around. 

With the alfalfa harvested, it was time to get the soybeans done and Jim wasn’t nearly as present as he’d been for the rest of it. He was beginning to get tired of the farm. He hated himself for it since Hutch and Georgie had done so much for him- and he loved them deeply- but the spiral was taking him down into the place where nothing was interesting and everything made him want to do something else. 

Jim had been driving the combine over the mature soybean crops for an hour when he started to feel sick. He was way too warm and felt nauseated. He tried to ignore it and distracted himself by wondering how the machine he was driving sorted the beans from their pods. He’d have to read up on it later, but he was thinking of it on his own- how he might do it. They were a different texture and consistency. If they were separated from the rest of the plant somehow, a centrifuge of some kind could separate the more lightweight pods from the beans. 

By the time it was finally ready to be dumped into the truck, Jim had soaked through his shirt and he was so tired he didn’t want to move. 

“I’m just going to get a drink,” he told Georgie. She was distracted enough by lining up the truck that she didn’t notice his pale, sweaty face or the hunched-over way he was dragging himself. 

Jim should have actually gotten water. He knew that. More whiskey would only make it worse, and the exhaustion and now cramping muscle in his leg were definite signs of dehydration, but he was in a spiral and that only resulted in bad decisions. Jim was self-destructive like this. He knew he should do something to make himself stop or feel better, but he didn’t want to. He wanted to stew in his own misery. He deserved it. In a way, there was something akin to comfort in the familiar feeling of misery. 

Downing the last two shots in one go, Jim headed back out. Lacing his shoes back on only made him hotter and more miserable. So did the sun. He plastered a smile on his face in case Georgie looked at him as he waited patiently for the combine to empty its storage container so he could get back in and do the other half of the field. 

It felt like forever, but finally it was time. Jim stumbled as he climbed back into the heavy machinery and started it up. He rubbed his thigh as it cramped again, but he was determined to finish what he’d started. He reached his arm out the side to try to bring some air into the cab and wiped his forehead with his thumb every few seconds. Finally, he stopped sweating but he was soaked so it was little relief. 

His head was pounding so hard he felt like crying, but thankfully his eyes spared him that humiliation. His head gave a nauseating swoop near the end of a row and it finally hit him how dangerous his behavior was. He could crash this antique piece of machinery and do the farm in permanently. Without another hesitation or worry about finishing what he started, he shut off the tractor and took a moment to breathe. Finally checking in with himself made Jim realize just how long ago he should’ve done something. 

Jim grabbed the handle outside the tractor cab to steady himself as he climbed down. Unfortunately, he severely overestimated his balance which seemed to get worse as he stood. He tripped over his own feet and face-planted in the field. Jim decided to just lie there for a moment and then a minute as the breeze cooled him a bit and hopefully his balance would return. Slowly this time, not wanting to repeat his previous mistake, he sat up and leaned against the wheel. 

Georgie was calling his name and he realized she was running. He cursed and waved at her to try to signal that he was fine even if he wasn’t. It had probably scared her to death seeing him fall out of the cab like that. He’d thought she was inside. Could she have heard the tractor turn off all the way from the house? Jim didn’t think so… Maybe he hadn’t hidden his physical state as well as he’d thought. 

Jim swallowed painfully against his dry throat as he waited for the awkward confrontation that was coming. 

“I’m fine,” he promised her. “I just needed a break.” 

“Jim!” she repeated, kneeling in front of him and touching his face. “Why didn’t you stop sooner? You’re burning up!” 

“I was almost done…” he said even though it wasn’t quite true. 

“I could have finished,” she insisted. 

Jim shrugged. “I like working.” 

She paused for a moment, giving him an unreadable look. “Jim… this is probably a silly question, but… your breath smells like whiskey.” 

Jim’s face clearly gave him away. She stood and turned away and that was more than enough to give Jim a clue as to how angry she was. She couldn’t even look at him. Georgie was too good for him. He could practically hear her counting to ten in her head to avoid screaming at him. 

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled. It was true this time. 

She turned around and Jim wanted to sink into the Earth when he saw that she was so angry there were tears in her eyes. “For a genius, you’re really quite stupid, you know?!” 

He couldn’t meet her eyes. “Some might say the genius part causes the other part.” 

She wasn’t amused and he didn’t need to look to know that she hadn’t even cracked a smile. “Jim Kirk, what are we going to do with you?” 

“It’s just whiskey,” he mumbled. 

“Just-? Just-?” she sputtered. “Jim, you are fifteen.” 

He sighed. “And you couldn’t even tell I was drunk, so obviously this isn’t my first rodeo. I’m not even sure this is a rodeo. It’s more like a leisurely walk.” 

It was obvious she had several things to say about that, but Georgie wasn’t about to let him have his misery. “Well, that’s just about enough of that,” she said with finality. “We both know that your past isn’t exactly bright, but your future is. Or it could be if you would stop acting like the past is all there is.” 

He shook his head. “You don’t understand.” 

“Not the details, no,” she agreed. “But I do understand that you are making yourself more miserable on purpose. I don’t care what you did on that planet or what you deserve for what. You will treat yourself with the kindness and respect you show to everyone else. That’s what’s fair. Now go inside, slowly drink a glass of water, and take a shower.” 

“Um-“

“No ‘um’s’ and no arguments! And you drink another glass after your shower.” 

If his face hadn’t already been red with the heat, Jim would have blushed. “I really fu- messed up.” 

“Yes,” she agreed. “And we’ll overlook it this time if you can just do as I say.” 

“I can try, but I meant that I let it get too far and I’m kind of…” With a sigh, he tried to stand and his legs were shaking too badly to hold him. “Doing as you say is… so much harder than you think.” 

“You’re lucky you haven’t grown too much,” she muttered under her breath as she helped him up and did most of the work to get back to the house. They skipped the mud room entirely as she deposited him at the table and filled a glass at the sink. 

“Are you going to tell Hutch?” Jim asked quietly. 

She whirled on him, shutting off the tap with more force than necessary. She practically slammed the glass onto the table in front of him. “Hutch isn’t the one you need to worry about. Hutch is a big old softie. Georgie is the one who will smack you into next week if you pull something like this again!” 

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled. 

“Good! Now drink your water!” 

The angry way she told him to do something that would normally have been said gently was almost funny and he did manage a small smile. “What exactly is so amusing, young man?” 

He shook his head. “Just the… ‘Now drink your water!’” He actually chuckled a little and, even though she clearly tried not to, even Georgie smiled. Jim took that as permission to properly laugh and she even joined him. He sipped slowly at it. 

“This doesn’t mean I’m not still furious with you,” she warned as she opened a cabinet and got another glass. Jim wondered if it was partly to turn away so he couldn’t see the way her face had softened. She filled the glass at the tap. 

“I know. I understand.” 

She forcefully set the second glass in front of him and he realized it hadn’t been for her. “Both of them. Slowly. I’ll be back in about half an hour and they better both be in your belly.” 

Jim nodded. He felt like apologizing again, but he had a feeling it would just frustrate her and lose him any ground he’d managed to gain. He had a lot of time to think about it while he sipped at the water- and it was a struggle just to sip. As soon as he had the first swallow, he truly felt his thirst and wanted to gulp it all down. 

By the bottom of the first glass, he was starting to feel a little less shaky and the weight of how horrible he felt physically began to really hit. Guilt over making Georgie worry was swelling as well. Jim was being an idiot and she was right. No one wanted to punish him for Tarsus IV except himself. Probably because everyone else could forgive him. Guilt was probably Jim’s strongest skill. It went away when he drank and it went away when he helped around the farm. It went away when he was high or with a girl. 

Another pang of guilt wracked through him as he realized he hadn’t thought about Hel in months. He’d literally abandoned her in the hospital. Shit, what if her dad was still abusing her? What if she’d tried again? And succeeded? 

When Georgie came back, Jim had worked himself into a frenzy and the second glass was only half full. He didn’t let her point this out before he could say, “Is there any way to check a police case?” 

She hesitated. “Your mom talked the sheriff out of pressing charges,” she assured him. “She pulled rank. It was actually pretty entertaining to w-“

“No, I don’t mean mine. I had this friend and she was in the hospital and we told the police that it was her dad, or I think we did, but…”

“You want to make sure she’s okay.” 

Jim nodded fervently and was immensely grateful that Georgie didn’t ask him some version of _Why now?_ “We’ll see what Hutch can find out when he gets back tomorrow. He can stop at the station. What’s her name?” 

“Hel,” Jim replied before realizing that wasn’t her full name. “Helen.” 

Georgie gave him a knowing look. “Friend?” 

“Yes,” Jim replied emphatically. He’d already decided not to do relationships. He was too… wild. He got tired of everyone and everything too often to subject someone to his changing interests and moods. 

“Okay. Well, I’ll tell Hutch to ask about your _friend_ and you will finish that water.” 

Jim rolled his eyes. She was never going to let that go. He finished the glass at a reasonable pace and began to walk slowly for the stairs. “And come back down for another glass once you’ve washed up,” she reminded him. 

Georgie could be scary when she wanted to be. 


	23. Chapter 23

Jim didn’t remember much of the medical wing. There were flashes of nurses and soldiers and Ty and some he knew were hallucinations, but he wasn’t certain which (if any) weren’t. The clearest part of it all was his Vulcan friend following him everywhere, dark green oozing from his stomach and mouth as he blamed Jim, as he regretted the illogical choice he’d made to save a weak boy who was going to die anyway. 

Well, Jim didn’t die. He was vaguely aware of the other kids in the room taking care of him. His days were foggy until suddenly they weren’t. He was aware now of the doctors that visited him three times a day to take his vitals, but they treated him as catatonic- a role he was all too happy to play for them. Until he heard the door open in the middle of the night and the quiet disagreement between a guard and the little girl he thought was called Ania. He didn’t need to know what they were saying to know he wasn’t going to let it swing into the guard’s favor. 

Jim walked silently up behind the guard, grabbed a bowl that someone had been drinking from, and smashed it into the adult’s skull as hard as he could. 

They all heard it and woke up when the guard fell, but Jim only had eyes for Ania. “You okay?” he asked her. 

She stared at him in silence before climbing out of the bed and hugging him. Jim stiffened at the contact and almost didn’t return the embrace. He settled for patting her on the back and waited to be released. 

“Jim.” 

He turned to see Lin. Yolanda and Colin came up behind them. He gave the trio a hollow look. The looks he received in return were only marginally less empty. Colin kept his distance, but the other two embraced their fellow survivor. Apparently everyone was going to hug him. All he did was knock a guard out. 

When they finally finished, he had only one question. “Thomas?” 

“We don’t know,” Yolanda said in a voice full of apology. “The medics took him and we haven’t seen him. That’s no reason to assume the worst, though. You were gone for weeks before they brought you here.” 

Jim nodded, but it felt hollow. 

“How many guards do they have on us?” 

Lin lit up. “Just him.” 

Jim grabbed the bowl. “Get anything you can fight with,” he said to the room. “We’re getting out of here.” 

“But where are we going to go?” Colin asked. 

“Who cares?” Lin replied. “I heard them talking about needing more trials. They clearly experimented on Jim. Or did you think they took his stats all day because they care about him? What makes you think we’re not next? What makes you think they care about any of us?” 

Jim gave Lin a tired but grateful smile which they returned. That seemed to have won them all over and they all grabbed dishes, looking ridiculous but ready for a fight. Jim was tense and alive for the first time since the sirens started going off. 

The group of children crept down the halls, with Jim peeking around each corner and directing them a different way when one would take them to more guards. He was about to redirect them when one of the kids stopped him. “That’s Kevin.” 

Jim gave them a questioning look. “In the room past them, that’s Kevin. He’s my little cousin. They were gonna kill him.” 

Jim glanced around the corner and cursed internally. The kid couldn’t have even been old enough for school. “How old is Kevin?” 

“Four.” 

Jim shut his eyes, knowing this was probably a suicide mission and then looked again. 

“Hell if I ever make a good decision,” he muttered. 

“All of you hide in the next corridor over,” Yolanda ordered and Jim was glad someone else was on his side. She turned her gaze on him, looking serious. “You get the shorter one and the kid. I’ll take care of the big guy.” 

Jim nodded. They waited for the rest of the kids to hide and slipped around the corner. They had clearly both been hoping to get at least part way without being noticed, but neither of them were tall enough to be mistaken for adults and the guards looked at them immediately. Both of them charged, trying to take advantage of any moment of hesitation they might have over the shock of seeing two kids. 

Jim zig zagged, dodging the phaser blasts just barely and he wasted no time ducking and punching the shorter guard between the legs. Instinctively, the man pushed down to block but Jim wasn’t kicking, so he only ended up catching Jim’s fist and hitting himself in the groin. Again, without hesitation, Jim jumped as high as he could and brought the bowl down on the back of the guard’s head as he bent double and threw open the door. 

“Come on, Kevin!” he ordered and picked the kid up without even asking as he ran down the hall. Yolanda knocked her guard down and followed. 

Suddenly, they heard phaser fire. The guard wasn’t knocked out, just down. They had just rounded the corner when Yolanda caught some phaser fire. She cried out in pain and Jim watched in horror as blood bloomed on her shoulder, too close to her heart, and she collapsed. 

Jim didn’t have time. What he had was a four year old clutching him and trying not to cry. “I’m sorry,” he told her and kept going. He’d go back. He promised himself he’d go back. He heard more phaser fire and made the mistake of glancing back. They’d shot her with a phaser set to kill. She’d been entirely vaporized. Jim pressed his lips shut and miraculously held back his tears. He rounded the corner. “Get back to the room!” he shouted and they barely took a second before complying instantly. 

They shut the door behind them and Jim immediately stood on the bed with his young burden and pushed up a ceiling tile. He lifted the kid. “Hide in there. They can’t know you’re up there, so be as quiet as you can, okay?” 

Jim turned his hands into a step once the little boy had a good grip with his hands so he could help push him up the rest of the way as he addressed everyone else. “They don’t know how many people were out there. They don’t know who I was yelling at. Tell them it was me and Yolanda.” 

Lin stepped forward. “Tell them it was me too.” 

“I’m not staying,” Jim reminded the J’naii. 

“Neither am I.” 

He lowered his voice. “Chances of getting caught-“

“I know.” 

“They killed Yolanda.” 

This gave them pause and Lin swallowed thickly. “Stop wasting time.” 

Jim opened his mouth to argue, but they were right. He nodded quickly and they sprinted out and down the hall. It was good that Jim had agreed to the company because Lin was the one who spotted the trash chute and had the bright idea that they would both fit in the small door. 

Jim opened the door and they climbed in with Jim just behind. 

It was impossibly steep and Jim barely kept quiet as they practically fell down the metal shaft and landed in the worst smelling pile he’d ever had the misfortune to discover. The chute had been far, too. Even though the garbage was fairly soft, it had hurt to land on. Thankfully he hadn’t landed on Lin. His companion was smart enough to roll out of the way. 

They both tried to catch their breath, but the smell was too overwhelming. Without even discussing it, they both searched for a way out and Jim barely choked out an “Over here!” as he released a hatch that landed them outside. 

Garbage spilled out with the pair and Jim blinked against the painful bright sunlight. With horror, he realized all of the trash that had toppled out with them was crops. Rotten, moldy crops. They were on the ground as well. “We have to get away from them!” Jim said urgently and began to slog through the mess. It was like a combination of walking on sand and walking through mud. His feet slipped in the decomposing roughage and Lin had grabbed onto him for balance. 

“I think I know where we are,” Lin panted once they were free of the heap. 

“Is there water anywhere nearby?” 

They nodded. “About a mile that way. This is the east science facility that they’re holding us in. The other way is the governor’s house.” 

Jim’s ears perked up at that, but he couldn’t. There was no hope of getting his revenge. What point was there in revenge anyway? It wouldn’t bring anyone back. Ty would still be the corpse that haunted his nightmares. 

They moved as quickly as they could and Jim tried to ignore the itching on his skin where the compost had gotten under his sleeves and into his pant legs. It became unbearable, so he rubbed his arms and legs as they walked to try to get the effect of scratching without his sharp fingernails. By the time they got to the water, they both had rashes. Lin’s was definitely worse than Jim’s and he wondered if the experiments the J’naii was sure had been done on him had anything to do it. 

Both of them stripped out of their disgusting clothes and plunged into the stream, washing as best as they could. The water was cool and it soothed the angry red bumps on his arms and legs. He rubbed at his limbs in an effort to further soothe them before dunking himself completely underwater. 

Jim washed more thoroughly than he probably needed to before finally grabbing his clothes and trying to wash them just as thoroughly. There was a big rock that they both laid their clothes on to dry before returning to the water. Both of their bodies had adjusted to the water temperature so that leaving it felt cold. Finally, Lin spoke. 

“I think I should go back.” 

“But you said they were going to experiment on us.” 

“I think I should let them,” they replied in a subdued voice and held an arm out to Jim. Where Lin had been scratching, there were a few places with broken skin and he could just barely detect mold around the edges. “It won’t wash off.” 

Jim’s mouth opened just slightly. He had no idea what to say or do. “It won’t-?”

They shook their head and hid the infected arm beneath the surface. “I’m going to die, aren’t I?” 

“No,” Jim said emphatically. “No, they made me eat infected food and then they cured me. They’ll cure you, too.” 

“Maybe. I’m J’naii, though. You’re human. What cured you might not cure me.” 

Jim grew quiet. He couldn’t argue with that. “They have to,” he said quietly. 

Lin smiled sadly at him. “Can you imagine? I survived all that- I didn’t even kill anyone- and now I’m gonna be taken out by a fungus.” 

“You won’t,” Jim decided. “Human and J’naii aren’t so different.” 

“It’s in my bloodstream. You only ate it.” 

“Still. It’s the same sickness.” 

“Maybe.” 

Neither of them spoke again until the clothes were dry enough to put on. Lin turned to him while straightening their shirt. “I’ll go back alone. If I’m right, they won’t kill a potential test subject. You, though. You’re a completed, successful trial. You’re not useful to them anymore.” 

Jim nodded. “I’ll find some way to help.” 

“Just promise me you’ll make it off this fucking planet.” 

Jim bit the inside of his cheek, but hell if he was going to refuse what could be Lin’s dying wish- and one where the kid had finally used some kind of profanity. 

“I promise.” 


	24. Chapter 24

Jim picked up another tree branch from the field. It was winter now, so they weren’t growing anything. He still took care of the animals each morning, but he had more free time now. Every day, he’d clear the fields of debris. It usually didn’t take long, but there had been a storm the night before and the wind had blown quite a few branches out. He shivered a little in spite of the fact that he was moving around. The sweater Georgie had found for him just wasn’t cutting it this close to the end of the year. 

By the time he went inside, his cheeks were red and he was ready to curl up by the fire. The couple had taught him (each individually, on separate occasions) to start the fire, but he wasn’t very good at it. Luckily, they seemed to think it was okay for him to have one thing he didn’t really do very well. 

“It’s getting cold,” he remarked as he shut the door to the mud room and hung up the sweater. 

“Winter can be harsh around here,” she agreed. “I’ll see if I can find something heavier than that for you.” 

She went to the stove and tapped the kettle with the back of her fingers. “Still warm, but it needs a reheat before it’ll steep anything. Do you want some tea to warm you up?” 

Jim smiled a little. “That sounds really good.” 

He heard the tell-tale clicking of the stove before the gas caught and the kettle started to reheat. Jim hurried upstairs to grab his PADD and relished in the warmth of the house. The kitchen was always warm this time of year because Georgie was constantly canning something and the rest of the house benefited from the fire. The upstairs wasn’t quite as warm as the lower floor, but it was still much better than outside. 

Jim passed a few pictures in the hall and for once actually stopped to look properly. He’d never asked, but he was sure the photo in the middle was their late son Charlie. He had Hutch’s eyes and Georgie’s personality. How Jim could tell something like that from a photograph, he wasn’t sure… but he could tell. He looked happy, too. He looked so proud to be wearing that Starfleet uniform. The young man had probably just graduated in this picture. There was a shuttle in the background, probably to take him to his first assignment. Then Jim noticed something he hadn’t in all the times he’d glanced at the photo before. The shuttle belonged to a specific ship and it was printed on the side: _Property of U.S.S. Kelvin._

Swallowing thickly, Jim forced himself down the stairs and then forced the thought from his mind. No wonder Georgie had needed some time when she found out Jim’s real name. Jim had thought it was because of the lying or that he’d killed his former guardian. Maybe it was this. He contemplated saying something to her, but she still talked about Charlie in the present tense- on the rare occasion that she talked about him at all. 

With a newfound appreciation for his host, he joined her in the kitchen and got two mugs. One advertised the 2063 Iowa State Fair (back when they still held such events) in a faded blue ink and the other had a chicken on it. Jim decided he should probably take the chicken mug because they all thought of the chickens when they looked at him and it seemed like the old state fair mug had to have some kind of sentimental value if not a monetary one. 

Setting them on the table, Jim scooped up three spoons of sugar for Georgie’s tea and set the morning’s fresh milk out because he knew she liked to add the milk last. Jim put three spoons of sugar in his own tea, following her example, but he usually skipped the milk. Something about knowing where it came from grossed him out a little. 

“Storm blew a lot of branches down,” he remarked, just to break the silence. 

“Thank you for clearing those out,” she nodded. “It’s a pain, but it’s worse when it builds up.” 

Jim nodded. “Like the leaves.” 

“Like the leaves,” she agreed as she poured the barely-whistling kettle into the pot. She dunked the teabags up and down for a minute until the color was dark to her standards and then put them in the compost. “Hutch and I are going to be driving the soy beans to a buyer in a couple days,” she told him. “Do you think you can handle things here on your own for a day?” 

“Will you build the fire before you go?” he asked uncertainly. 

“As long as you don’t leave it alone too long. Skip the field that day.” 

Jim nodded eagerly at the thought of taking care of something so that his hosts could do something on their own. “I’ll be quick with the animals in the morning.” 

“Good.” She poured the tea into the two mugs and set the pot aside before dumping a bunch of milk into hers and stirring. “How are your studies going?” 

“I’m learning Italian,” he told her, “and programming.” 

Jim could always tell how pleased she was to hear about him studying advanced courses. “And have you heard from your friend?” 

Jim looked determinedly into his tea as he waited for it to cool. “I don’t think I’m going to message her.” 

“You sure seemed eager to find out about her before.” 

He sighed heavily. “I… we didn’t part on great terms. I think it’d be best if I just left her alone.” 

“Don’t you think she deserves a say in who leaves her alone and who doesn’t?” Georgie reasoned. “If she doesn’t want to see you, she doesn’t want to see you. But you’ll never know if you don’t give her a choice.” 

Jim nodded in silent acknowledgment. The truth was he was afraid of the rejection. Or worse, he was afraid she’d want to see him and he’d find another way to hurt her. He didn’t want to be, but Jim was so very good at hurting people. It didn’t matter how much he loved them. He always found a way to hurt them. 

“I was reading the headlines this morning,” Georgie digressed. “There’s going to be a youth science competition. Maybe you’d be interested. I think you have a pretty good chance. First place is pretty much guaranteed acceptance to the school of your choice.” 

Jim didn’t have the heart to tell her he wasn’t interested in school. “Maybe.” 

She lit up a little. “The theme is solutions. You identify a problem in your community and you solve it. There are a few rules we can look up, but I definitely think you could give those other kids a run for their money. After what you did in the barn…”

“I guess I’ll have a look. I don’t know what kind of thing I’d come up with, though.” 

“You can’t think of a single thing you’d change in the world?” 

“I might put kids in charge.” 

She chuckled a little. “I don’t think you’ll have much luck with that one.” 

“I’ll have to think about it, I guess. I can’t think of any problems I could actually solve.” 

“Try not to think so big, then.” 

“Aren’t you supposed to tell me to think as big as I can?” 

She smiled in amusement. “Do you think I became a farmer by thinking big, going where no one has gone before? Jim, it’s your life. You should always do what will make it best for you. Never do something because you feel like you should. Be sensible, obviously. Don’t decide to sleep all day. But there has to be something for you.” 

He sipped at his tea. It was still a little too warm, but it was bearable so he drank a mouthful. “I don’t sit still very well,” he mumbled. “I learn so much because I get bored easily. I can’t do one thing forever. Even if I enjoy it at first, eventually it always gets boring.” 

“What about farm work?” 

“That changes. And it’s different. That’s for you and Hutch. But it’s… not something I love. What I love is doing things for you.” 

She gave him a small smile that made him feel warm. “What about a job in service of some kind? A doctor or-“

Jim shook his head. “I definitely could never be a doctor. And I’m not patient enough to… have patients.” 

They both laughed a little and Jim wondered how they’d gotten on to talk of his future. “Well, it’s not like you have to decide right now.” 

Jim nodded. “Can I take my tea in the other room while I study?” 

She nodded but he could tell she was disappointed that he was trying to get out of the conversation. At least she didn’t try to stop him. Tucking his PADD under his arm, Jim went into the next room to study. He grabbed one of the knitted drink pads and set the mug on it before curling up in the big, cushy chair that he liked. 

Before diving into his Italian course, Jim opened up his messages and stared at the new, blank one. Georgie was right. Jim wasn’t a mind reader, and he’d done enough to Hel without taking her choices away. Several minutes went by as he stared at the empty message box. _I don’t even know if this is still your contact, but someone pointed out that I didn’t have the right to decide who you talk to,_ he started. It sounded stupid, but he didn’t have much else. 

With a sigh, he slouched down in the chair until he was barely in it. Crafting a simple message shouldn’t be this hard. _I just wanted to say I’m sorry and I’m glad he’s locked up._ She’d know who he meant. Jim traced a fingertip around the frame of the screen. It wasn’t even that he didn’t know what he wanted to say. He just couldn’t bring himself to type it. _Anyway, if you never want to see me again, I understand. I can’t explain why I ran, but it wasn’t because I don’t care. I do. I hope you’re okay. Jim._

He re-read it for typos and hated it. Before he could change his mind, Jim hit the send button. Georgie was right. He owed her an apology at least. He’d tried to make it a goodbye, but it still felt like he’d left a question open. 

Jim went back to his inbox to take his mind off it and opened the message from his mother. She’d sent him a picture of the blue flower they’d discovered on Bengali IX where her expedition had landed last month. It had three large petals and a center that looked almost exactly like a walnut in its shell. There were beautiful purple and green stripes outlining each of the three petals and running down the orange stem. It had antiseptic properties, apparently. And she missed him. He smiled a little at the last part and scrolled back up to the picture of her kneeling by the plant. Her expression was the perfect balance of happy pride and sadness that he wasn’t with her. 

Jim let his fingers brush over her hand in the picture before saving it to the PADD’s memory and deleting the message. Just before he could open his courses, a reply came in. 

Hel’s name intimidated him and he actually stopped breathing as he saw the new message. It took several moments before Jim managed to open it and his heart sank. 

_Sorry, Jim. I don’t know who you were trying to contact, but they must have gotten a new address. Best wishes!_


	25. Chapter 25

Jim slipped around the corner of the building, trying to keep low. There used to be bushes here, something he could have hidden in, but all that was left were crunchy leaves that made his sneaking more difficult. Finally, he reached the right window and tapped three times: one long followed by two short. 

It felt like forever before the window finally opened. Ania grinned at him. “What did you bring us?” she asked. 

Jim held up a bag. It didn’t have much. He’d only managed to steal four ration bars. It wasn’t much to go around, and he hoped very much it would mostly go to the little boy since the guards would bring food for the other kids. “How is everyone?” he asked. 

“Lin doesn’t look so good,” Ania told him with a fearful look. 

“What’s Lin doing with you? They should be in the med bay.” 

The little girl looked to her right fearfully, toward Lin’s bed. “The doctors did an injection and that was it.” 

Jim felt his fingernails digging into his palm as his knuckles turned white. “Can I talk to them?” 

Ania looked to the right again and shook her head sadly. “Lin’s not awake right now. Lin is almost never awake anymore.” 

Jim blinked rapidly. He wasn’t going to cry, especially not in front of one of his kids. Suddenly, Kevin appeared at the window and Jim beamed at him. “Hey, you.” 

“Big brother Jim!” Kevin said in an excited almost-whisper. He reached his little hand through the window and Jim shook it congenially. “No, high five!” Jim made an _Oh_ of recognition and tried to fist bump the fingers. “No, high _five_!” Kevin insisted again, like he was talking to a moron. 

“Oh, high _five_ ,” Jim repeated and smacked his forehead before finally giving the requested hand gesture. This made the boy unspeakably happy, and it rubbed off on Jim. “Are you being good for the other big sibs?” 

Kevin nodded emphatically. “I don’t like the upstairs,” he mumbled. “It’s small and it smells bad.” 

“Not as bad as those guards smell. They have stinky feet. Trust me, I know.” 

Jim’s smile faded as he heard one of the other kids warn for guards. Kevin was whisked away to be hidden ‘upstairs’ again and Jim rushed around the corner as he heard Ania close the window. He couldn’t hear what was going on inside and he didn’t dare try to look. If the guard saw him, it might get the other kids in trouble. So he waited until he couldn’t wait anymore and took off. 

One thing the guards and scientists and brightest of the brightest had never thought to do was check the empty houses for food. The half of the colony who were executed hadn’t had time to clean out their houses, and they were planning to come home and continue to eat three meals a day. Or possibly two. They might have been down to two by the time Kodos killed them all. 

Jim hurried back to the town and broke into a house with a fine layer of dust on the doormat. This was how he picked them. The rotting plants left a dark grey dust on everything. If someone was living in a house, there would be a trail at the door where they clearly walked through it every day. Jim was always careful to walk through the dirt and not on the sidewalk. He couldn’t cover his tracks on flat stone, but the plant remains could always be shuffled to hide his traces. 

Once he got inside, he locked the door behind him and headed straight for the kitchen. This house was a winner. He found a whole box of ration bars under the sink. Clearly whoever had lived here thought they were pulling one over on any guards who might check their supplies. There were three more rations in the cabinet and he put them all in his bag- something he’d looted from his second house. 

Upstairs, there were two more rations hidden in the bathroom medicine cabinet. Jim grinned. This could keep his kids going for ages. More importantly, there was a bed. Jim didn’t sleep very well in beds anymore, but it was nice to lie on for a while. If he was tired enough, he could actually fall asleep for a few hours. With a near-smile, he laid back on the mattress and pulled the blankets up tight before reaching for the half ration he’d rewrapped and put in his pocket. He’d been surviving on a quarter of a bar each day. It was miserable, but it was enough for now. He cared more about the kids locked up at the science facility. 

Jim ate as slowly as he could, but the truth was he could’ve eaten the quarter ration in two bites. He simply chose to nibble at it to try to trick himself into thinking there was more of it than there was. Carefully, he re-wrapped the last quarter and put it back in his pocket. His stomach still ached with hunger so he went across the hall to the bathroom to see if the water was on. It was. He drank greedily, just enough to make his stomach feel full long enough to fall asleep. 

Jim felt wonderfully bloated as he shut himself in the bedroom closet. He had to shove aside a few pairs of shoes, but it would do. He hugged the bag of rations in his lap and drew his knees up to hold it better as he drifted off. 

Jim dreamt of his kids feasting on rations at first, but then his dreams found their way to the usual setting. Ty died in his arms by the exit and Jim woke in a sweat, his heart racing, his lungs desperate for more air. 

He opened the door and tumbled out only to fall forward and almost faceplant on a pair of shoes that contained feet and therefore a person. He quickly backed up, terrified of who it was or what they were going to do with him. “Oh, shit,” Jim breathed as he realized it was Ty. Soaked in blood, his friend gazed down at him with a cold rage. Jim crawled back into the closet with his hands over his ears, but he couldn’t block out the voice which came from his own mind. 

He was hallucinating again. The pain in his stomach was worse and Jim knew now that it wasn’t just hunger. He pulled out the quarter ration with shaking hands and saw the faint flecks of black. He’d eaten more of the mold. He went to the bathroom on shaking legs, followed by the hallucination (he had to stop calling it Ty) and drank as much water as he could stomach before deciding to just sit on the bathroom floor. It was clean enough and he was going to drink as much water as he could to try to flush it all out. 

Lucidity came and went and Jim didn’t know how many days he lost to hallucinations and sickness. He was barely able to get back to the rations when it finally left his weakened body. 

Jim ate a whole ration and felt guilty about it. He felt shaky and terrible and decided he needed to drink more water and sleep again before he tried to get back to the facility. With his body in this state, he was more likely to get caught than anything else. 

When he woke, he was only marginally better, but he couldn’t wait anymore. The kids would be out of extra rations by now if they hadn’t been already. He was out of breath by the time he got to the window. The sleep had helped, but he was still not doing so well. Even Ania could tell. With Yolanda gone, Lin ill, and Jim on the run, Colin was the oldest kid left in their bunk so he was the one Ania made come to the window to see him. Jim didn’t have a lot of love for Colin or Colin for him, but he must have looked truly bad to inspire the uneasy look the other boy gave him. 

“Jim, you look like hell.” 

Jim ignored him and started handing up the rations. “Hide them with Kevin, and make sure to make them last,” he said. “Check them all thoroughly before you let anyone eat them, okay? Especially if they’re open, the mold can grow on them. And it grows fast.” 

Colin nodded. He’d clearly figured out what had happened to Jim and why it had taken him so long to get back. He didn’t ask if Jim was going to be okay and just kept handing the rations along the assembly line up to Kevin. The line stopped and he could hear Kevin arguing. “But why can’t I see him?” 

“Let him down,” Jim said in a tired voice. 

He kept the assembly line going once Kevin was down and someone else put them up while Kevin talked to him. “They took Lin away,” Kevin said sadly. 

“Well, Lin was very sick and needed treatment,” Jim reminded the little boy. 

“No, Lin was dead,” Kevin said and Jim’s movements faltered. “Are you gonna come back, Jim?” 

Jim swallowed thickly and handed another ration up to Colin. “As soon as I can, okay?” 

Finally, his bag was empty and Kevin insisted Jim get on his tippy toes for a hug. The window was too small even for Kevin to crawl through, so Jim ended up with his face pressed against the pane as the two little hands grabbed the back of his neck. Kevin’s face reappeared at the window. “I’ll be good for the big sibs,” he promised before Jim could ask. “You should come back and live with us.” 

“I want to,” Jim assured him with a sad smile. “Stay safe, okay?” 

Kevin reached a hand out and pressed Jim’s face. He smiled a little in spite of himself. “I’ll see you soon, Kev.” 

Jim turned and left before the little boy could change his mind. It was normally a large relief to provide food for them, and he’d had a ton this time around… but he somehow felt even worse than before. The aftereffects of the fungus were still with him and he couldn’t stop thinking about Kevin, Kevin who was basically a toddler, and his cavalier attitude toward his big sib dying. Jim clamped a hand over his mouth as he let out an audible sob. 

Lin wasn’t supposed to die. 

Jim needed to keep moving, but it was getting harder as grief began to take over every aspect of his being. Lin was another in a long string of deaths, and there was one in particular that he’d been trying desperately not to think about. Ty’s death still felt like it had ripped away a part of Jim’s soul. That loss was immeasurable and never ending. 

He barely made it past the tree line before falling to his knees with not-quite silent grief. Even that was denied him however, because he’d been followed. Three guards surrounded him and restrained him. Jim was humiliated as he struggled and cried and they all _laughed_. They even made a game of him, shoving him back and forth like a game of catch, until finally they began to take him away. They weren’t headed to the facility. They shoved him in the back of a car which would not open from the inside, and they drove. 

Jim barely managed to get himself under control as they rushed past fields of rot and husks. He only managed because of the danger he was well aware he was in. They probably weren’t going to kill him or they would’ve done it. He’d already been experimented on, so he wasn’t useful scientifically. He thought again of their laughter as they tormented him and knew he was good for their amusement. He looked up at them fearfully. 

The truth was worse than he could have imagined. They stopped at the Governor’s mansion and he was dragged inside. The place was decadent and frivolous and Jim would have hated the man more, but it was impossible. Jim didn’t have any more room for hate in his body. 

“Lock him up there,” a familiar voice remarked. Jim recognized Kodos’ voice and he should have recognized the man before. He had been too full of grief at the time to recognize even the man he hated most, but now Jim realized Kodos was the same man who’d gone berserk and kicked the shit out of him in the Course. 

With a grunt, Jim was shoved roughly to the floor and a manacle was literally attached to his ankle. His eyes traveled along the chain and saw that it was secured to the wall. His skin crawled at the way he was trapped and the dehumanized feeling that came with essentially being leashed. 

“You can go.” Kodos’ voice might have sounded pleasant if it weren’t for the sentiment and the man behind it. 

The guards left and Jim was alone with his enemy. 

Jim was tense at first as the man worked, but he seemed content to ignore the young man chained to the wall. Still, Jim watched him, ready for another beating. Was that what he was there for? A punching bag? 

Still, the man didn’t move. He was writing something on a PADD. Jim knew exactly when he hit the send button. He’d sent enough missives himself to know what it looked like. At least a dozen went out before Jim started to relax a little. He had no illusions that he was there for a bad reason, but for now he was being left alone and that was alright. Who knew? Maybe that was what he was there for. To be chained up so Kodos could watch him starve on grief, loneliness, and hunger. 

Finally, Kodos stood and Jim immediately tensed even though the man simply walked to his mirror, sat down, and began to straighten his collar. He didn’t speak at first, surveying himself in the mirror and dealing with each and every strand of hair that offended him. Finally, as he began to go through the top drawer of the vanity, he addressed the boy chained in the corner. 

“You have questions,” he said flatly as he pulled out a file. “I’m not going to answer them in so many words, but I’m sure you’ll figure them out anyway.” 

Kodos dropped the file at Jim’s feet and then went to a smaller cabinet to the side. From it, he pulled an amber liquid that Jim knew was a strong alcohol and his hate flared angrily beneath the surface. Not only was everyone starving, but this bastard had _luxuries_ stowed away in his bedroom. Kodos deposited the glass firmly next to the file and went to pour a second which he threw back in one swallow before pouring another. 

“Drink,” he ordered calmly, as if he didn’t care what Jim did. 

This was good, since Jim had no intention of drinking or eating anything given to him by this man- no matter how much his throat scratched or stomach churned. 

With a sigh, Kodos leaned against the liquor cabinet and looked at Jim with a calm disregard. “I’m sure I must seem some kind of monster to you,” he began. The speech sounded rehearsed and tired. Jim only listened because he couldn’t tune the man out. “I’d like to invite you to look at the pictures in that file. They show what happens when someone ingests the fungus. It’s highly parasitic and continues to eat the host even after they have passed on.” 

“So you killed them first,” Jim spat out. 

“If you think hard, I think you’ll find you killed quite a few yourself,” Kodos remarked coldly. “Including your Vulcan protector.” 

Jim grimaced as if the man had literally twisted a knife in his gut rather than metaphorically. “You forced us.” 

“I didn’t force anyone to do anything in those courses,” Kodos remarked. “You had plenty of choices, James. You chose to evaluate each life and you placed more value on some than others, remember? We’re not so different, you and I.” 

“We’re nothing alike,” Jim spat and finally met Kodos’ eyes with his own glare of hatred. 

“I didn’t enjoy choosing who would live or die,” the man went on as if Jim wasn’t trying to kill him with a look alone. “It was agonizing.” 

Jim actually laughed. “Yes, putting names on a list and then sending someone else to do your dirty work must have been terrible.” 

Kodos’ face darkened and Jim flinched back even though the man barely moved. He hadn’t even taken a step. All he’d done was stop leaning and stand up straight as if thinking about moving. “Watch your tongue, or you will regret it.” 

Jim clenched his jaw and tried not to respond, but he was still Jim Kirk and he couldn’t show his belly. “So was it harder to write four thousand names or to threaten a little boy chained to a wall?” 

It was a mistake before it even left his mouth. Kodos snapped, charging for Jim and backhanding him so hard he hit the floor and fell back when he tried to get up. His ears were ringing and his head was pounding, but he forced himself back to his knees. 

“Drink,” Kodos ordered again, but this time his voice was hard. Jim only stared at him fearlessly. “James, you will learn that what I do is for the best. Everything I do, everything, is for the best. Now drink. You’ll need it.” 

Something about the edge to his words made Jim afraid. He didn’t want to admit it, but something in him was terrified at the thought of needing alcohol. It wouldn’t hydrate him. Why would he need something that would dehydrate him? Jim swallowed his fear and continued to ignore the glass. 

“Fine,” Kodos said and snatched the glass away before downing it himself. “I warned you, James. I gave you three chances. You will also learn that three chances is my limit. Now, you’ll learn.” 

Kodos grabbed his PADD from the desk, typed in a few things and pulled up a video feed of Ania. She was alone in a cell with a guard. The guard was facing the camera with their back to the little girl, arms crossed, and one holding a wicked knife. 

“You get to choose now, James. We can kill her like you killed the guard who’d been sent to fetch her in the first place-“

“He was touching her,” Jim snarled. “I killed him because he was touching her, and it was obviously not the first time!” 

Kodos sighed. “Be that as it may, you only saved her life for a grace period. I’ve done the calculations, James. Every day, someone else has to die. The Federation is on the way, but it could be months before they get here. Every day they don’t arrive, we have less and less rations to go around.” 

Jim didn’t want to hear anymore. “So what’s my other choice?” Jim spat. “Kill her or what? Kill myself?” 

“No, James. I told you. You’re making the choices from now on. It’s her or…” Kodos made a few changes and showed him a nearly identical video feed, but instead of Ania at the table, it was Colin. Kodos watched him expectantly. “So. Who will it be?” 

“Neither,” Jim stated firmly. 

“If you don’t choose-“

“You will?” Jim cut him off. 

“No, James. If you don’t choose, they’ll both die and I’ll give you another choice in two days.” 

Jim’s mouth actually parted in shock. “You can’t do this,” he breathed. 

Kodos tilted his head. “Can’t? I already have, James. I’ve been making these choices for months now. One of these two is going to die. Their meals will go to a more valued member of society.” 

“Valued?” Jim choked out. “And you’re determining this value. Okay. Fine. Neither. Neither dies. I’ll give up whatever you were going to feed me. They can have it.” 

Kodos tsked and shook his head. “And why would I agree to that?” 

“Because if it’s really about the food like you say it is, then this way no one has to fucking die!” 

Kodos grabbed his jaw with a painful force and shook Jim painfully. “It is about food, but it is also about teaching you a lesson, James. You cannot starve yourself to avoid making choices.” 

“If I had a choice in the course between killing and not, then I have that same choice here,” Jim bit out through his bruising jaw. 

Kodos narrowed his eyes at Jim. “Alright.” He released Jim’s jaw and the sudden calm was somehow more unnerving than the violence. “I will give you the chance to save them both, but you agree that you will not eat until one of them dies,” Kodos informed him. Jim nodded. It wasn’t a choice, whatever Kodos wanted him to believe. “Just as in the course, it will get harder every day. Someone else will die tomorrow, James, and you will tell me who. You are only one person. Your meals can only save one person.” 

Jim clenched his jaw. He could save one of them for now and that was what mattered. At least if he agreed to this, he’d have time to think of something else. “Then I save one person.” 

Kodos nodded and proceeded to walk away. “I would have chosen the boy,” the man informed him. “The girl is weaker, but the boy is bigger and requires more food. He will likely die sooner on the rations we have.” 

“Guess it shows how little we have in common. Since I chose neither,” Jim stated. 

Kodos whirled, fixing Jim with a dangerous glare. “We’ll see. You’ll choose, James. Everyone has a breaking point.” 


	26. Chapter 26

Jim knew Georgie had told Hutch about his incident because the liquor cabinet had a lock on it now. He was grateful that they didn’t make him talk about it, but now that he was alone, he was tempted to pick the lock. 

Jim spent the day outside, trying not to think about any of it. He cleared the entire field when normally he’d just do a fraction each day. By the time he got inside, he was shivering. Knowing how his hosts felt about the fire going with no one to watch it, Jim had put it out before he’d gone outside. He spent half an hour trying to light it before he finally got a spark to catch. It burned bright for about twenty seconds before dimming. Jim rushed for some kindling to catch it before it went out and ended up burning himself, but at least he had a fire now. 

Jim went into the kitchen to make a cup of tea like Georgie had done for him so many times and held his hands near the burner as the kettle heated. He still had a sweater on and wasn’t planning to take it off any time soon. 

The mug was warm in his hands and he waited a while before drinking any. He simply sat in the cozy chair that he loved with his feet tucked under him and a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, holding the warm mug as feeling and warmth slowly came back to him and filled the room from the fire. Jim wasn’t quite tired, but he definitely didn’t want to leave the chair. Thankfully, he’d had the foresight to leave his PADD on the table. 

Sipping at the tea before trading it for his PADD, he got to work. Jim was finding most languages easier than the previous ones. There was a pattern and a strategy that he couldn’t quite articulate, but it had to do with figuring out which words had cognates and just which (usually subtle) way the language’s grammatical rules differed from Standard. Italian was a romance language, and the grammar there was almost the same as some others. The only thing that gave Jim trouble was that he didn’t get to hear native speakers use the language. In the course, everything was always dictated slowly and clearly. Jim knew he would get the pronunciation that way, but he also knew a native speaker would have nuances, would slur certain things, would have idiosyncracies in their speech. Jim doubted any English courses taught the words “dunno” or “gonna” to its learners, for example. 

He fell asleep in front of the fire, muttering something about _il giardino_ as the half mug of tea went cold on the table beside him. 

The next day, Jim picked the lock on the liquor cabinet. Not right away, but he’d taken care of the animals and walked the entire field again, but there wasn’t much debris that had collected in twenty-four hours, so it barely took the time to walk it. He’d tried studying, but he’d been alone for two days at that point and he couldn’t focus. 

The language modules were all set up predictably: he’d have a vocabulary module in each chapter, followed by a relevant verb module, followed by two on grammar and conversation, finished with a reading comprehension. The gardening module he’d started the night before and had been doing fine with until he got to the reading comprehension. It was a brief article on Tarsus IV. It wasn’t about the massacre. It was older than that. It was about the exciting new farming techniques being used there. The article explored the benefits of the new techniques- faster growth, more crops, less pesticide- and its risks- less flavor, possible nutrient deficiencies, and susceptibility to rot. He answered the comprehension questions as quickly as he could and tried not to think of husks and black rot. 

It wasn’t the last time Jim would have to push past his demons to finish schoolwork, but it was the first time he had to legitimately cope with it instead of running away. 

First, he tried to take a shower and “wash the day off” even though it had been cold and he hadn’t even broken a sweat, but it really didn’t do much except make his hair wet and unruly since he’d already warmed up in the chair. Then he tried staring at the cabinet, mentally listing all of the good qualities of Georgie and Hutch- also known as the Reasons He Could Not Disappoint Them. 

Desperate, Jim returned to the other room and sat on the rug in front of the hearth. He hadn’t done this since the planet, but it had always worked then. It should work now, too, and what better way to honor his fallen friend than to use what had been passed to him? 

Of course, should and would were entirely different universes. Maybe it should have worked, but it would not. Jim could still hear Ty’s voice, asking him what he was angry about. Answering that only upset Jim more and being aware of the air in his lungs only meant he witnessed every minute of the panic and despair coming on. 

That was what had him staring into the now open liquor cabinet. It was empty. They hadn’t replaced what he’d drunk. All that was there was the mixers. Well, he’d known that they rarely drank. He just hadn’t expected them to lock the cabinet with nothing worthwhile in it. 

Jim shut it and fixed the lock so it was exactly how they’d left it. He didn’t want to see the disappointment on their faces when they realized he hadn’t even kept his promise for a week. 

Jim’s voice had dropped considerably over the months and he was finally getting taller. Unfortunately, he was also getting far more interested in finding someone to sleep with. It didn’t even have to be one person. Jim started going into town, meeting the other kids his age. He used his “farmboy charm” and mystery (apparently being some form of homeschooled made him mysterious) to convince half the girls in town to at least make out with him. He remembered at least half their names. 

Many of the girls weren’t interested. Sex meant something to them and Jim couldn’t relate, but he respected that. He didn’t pretend he could give anything he couldn’t. He didn’t try to make himself care when there were plenty of other teens who held the same casual view of sex as he did. If Georgie and Hutch knew how he was behaving, they didn’t let on. Jim was pretty sure they were just glad to see him socializing with others his own age. In fact, he had a distinct memory of overhearing part of a call with his mother in which Georgie expressed concern that Jim wasn’t interested in making friends. 

Of course he wasn’t. Every friend Jim had ever had was either dead or wanted nothing to do with him. Jim didn’t want friends. He wanted people he could have fun with, who wouldn’t hurt his heart when they were gone. Like the old Earth song said, his heart was made of glass and it was cracked. 

By the time Jim was old enough to live on his own, he definitely had a reputation. He travelled back to Riverside, found a shitty job washing dishes, and an even shittier motel room while he saved money for an apartment. He loved Georgie and Hutch enough for it to hurt him to leave, but it hurt more to stay and see his reputation make them look bad. At least this way, he could show their town that they had no control over him or his choices. 

Jim didn’t do hard drugs anymore, but he did drink. He slept with someone new (usually) every night. He got in a bar fight at least once a month for hitting on the wrong girl (or once because a guy hit on him and Jim didn’t recognize the panic attack until it was too late) and he’d been banned from all but one. 

It was that bar when, once again, he hit on the wrong woman- but this time for an entirely different reason. 

It’s not that Jim wanted to bang a Starfleet cadet. It was that she was the most gorgeous woman in the bar and as soon as she said the word _xenolinguistics_ , he knew she was fucking smart, too. He knew she wasn’t trying to flirt with him, but damn he could practically see her tongue forming the L in linguistics. His “farmboy charm” didn’t land with her the way it had with the girls in his other hometown, though she clearly found him amusing at least. He was just about to hit her with some Greek poetry when a burly cadet interrupted. It cut him to hear that he was just an amusement to her, but he would be just as happy for a bar fight as a one night stand. No matter how much he liked her, he could never be more than that to her. 

Jim actually smiled as they bruised and bloodied up his face, laughing weakly in amusement because they thought they could take him down. It always amused him because they expected him to back down, to not get back up, and he always did. He’d broken an arm and a rib on two occasions because of this, but he loved the adrenaline of an “impossible” fight. He didn’t always win, but he never lost. They were always broken up and kicked out before someone could beat him hard enough to give in. 

_They don’t have first names on your world?_ echoed through his head, along with _Uhura_ in her smooth voice. He would love to make that voice shake with need, but it wasn’t to be. 

Jim saw the cops and knew he’d spend the night in a cell, only he didn’t. He was kept in one of the private rooms the bar had with a guard outside and Jim wondered briefly if he was going to face different consequences because he’d fought with Starfleet goons this time. 

With a mental shrug, Jim shoved some napkins up his nose to stop the bleeding. He remembered the first time he’d been locked up. It was when his reputation finally began to gain some credence. He’d been at a party with underage drinking and the local sheriff thought locking up all the kids who couldn’t pass a breath test would scare them straight. It worked, on most of them. Hell, it almost worked on Jim. 

Jim could remember the feeling of dread in his stomach as the door shut and he was locked in with a bunch of kids. His palms bled from the force of his fingernails and his muscles were locked tight. More than once, he eyed the very public, unshielded toilet in the cell and hoped he wouldn’t have to use it. 

Being locked up would have scared him straight, truly, if they hadn’t let him out the next morning. That was when Jim realized, finally, on more than a surface level, that Tarsus wasn’t going to happen to him here. No matter what, he would always be let out. He wouldn’t have to hurt anyone. No one was going to do anything to him that he couldn’t handle. 

He smiled grimly to himself as he waited for his fate. Starfleet. There had been Starfleet officers on Tarsus IV. Maybe his luck had run out. 

By the time the Admiral finally showed up, Jim was clasping his hands under the table so the man wouldn’t know he was shaking. 

Whatever Jim had expected, it wasn’t a retelling of his father’s suicide. It wasn’t a statistical listing of the people he’d saved, and it definitely wasn’t a recruitment offer. 

Fuck Starfleet. 

_I dare you to do better._

…well, Jim never could back down from a challenge. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just FYI the song Jim's thinking of in this chapter is "Cracked" by Pentatonix because i've been obsessed with them these past few months and i'm sure i've had that playlist on repeat for at least half of this fic.


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one involves (further and more terrible) torture of poor Jim. There is gore, though it happens in Jim's presence and not TO him. (tbh the upped violence is a big reason that it's the shortest chapter in the fic.) Please take care, friends. I did say "open-ended sadness" or something to that effect.

Jim pressed himself into the corner of his cell. The smell was overwhelming and so was the sight even though he refused to look. 

Kodos had locked him in a cell four days ago with someone who’d accidentally eaten contaminated rations. The person had died the day before and already their insides were disappearing. The skin had begun to sag and dry out. 

Every day, Kodos returned to ask him to make a choice. He didn’t know if Colin or Ania were still alive, but they had never been presented to him as a choice before. The first day, Jim refused, so Kodos had two guards hold Jim’s face and eyes to force him to watch as both were killed. The following three days, Jim had replied “Door number one.” 

It wasn’t a choice if he said the same thing no matter what, right? 

They still held his face and forced him to watch. As hard as Jim tried, he couldn’t desensitize himself. He still cried once they left. 

After a week, the body was a slimy husk. Jim could barely breathe with the reek of rot in the room. The only silver lining was that there were no flies, no maggots, no nothing. Either they’d all been killed off or they all had some instinct that this was the kind of decomposing that should be avoided. Unfortunately, Jim had no such choice. 

Locked in a cell, the body took a full month to dry out. They’d force-fed Jim several times and there was more than one pile of vomit in the cell from where he’d failed to keep it down. 

Finally, finally after that month concluded and he’d witnessed what Kodos wanted him to witness about the mold in person, he was let out. Even chained to the wall, Jim felt freer and lighter. 

“I am sorry,” Kodos finally said once his messages had been sent for the day. Jim couldn’t help but wonder who he was messaging. Who could Kodos possibly have business with? It had to be more than the guards. Was he sending for help? Did it improve their odds if the man kept pushing? “I know how gruesome that must have been.” 

Jim wondered if he did. If Kodos had been locked in a room with a dead body for a month, forced to breathe it in, barely able to keep food down. Jim’s bones were all clearly visible now. He wasn’t sure if there was even an ounce of fat left in him, and his muscles had nearly wasted away. His eyes were sunken and even Kodos seemed uncomfortable to look at him. 

Jim was force-fed every day that week and the only words he spoke were “Door number one.” 

“You must see now, James,” Kodos said as he dragged his chair over to sit in front of the silent child. “You must understand now. You may still be refusing to choose who dies, but you are choosing that someone dies. You understand that it is either one or none.” 

“That’s your choice,” Jim rasped out. 

“From now on, you will choose,” Kodos warned him. “You will be given everyone’s profiles. They will not be numbered. There will be no doors. You will tell me, by name, which one is to die.” 

“And if I don’t, you’ll kill all of them?” Jim suggested. 

“You will,” Kodos said with certainty. 

“And if I don’t?” 

“James. I have said you will make the choice. If I have to torture it out of you, you will make a choice.” 

“If you think pain-“

Kodos clicked his tongue at the boy. “I am aware of your tolerance for pain, James. So far you have been subjected to many different kinds of pain, but I assure you I will find new experiences for you.” 

Jim didn’t read the files. If all he had to do was save lives was get tortured, he could live with that. They made sure to feed him in the morning and wait to torture him until evening. It was almost considerate of them to give him time to process the food and heal a little, but he knew it wasn’t out of concern for him. It was because they had a job and that job was to keep him alive and miserable until he did as Kodos asked. 

The beatings he could take. To an extent, he could even take the guard who made Jim suck him off. Jim knew if it didn’t mean someone dying, he wouldn’t be able to take it. The first time the guard raped him, Jim broke. He yelled a name. He didn’t know if it was the name of someone living on the colony, but he needed it to stop. It didn’t until the sting of the man’s release was dripping from him with his own blood. 

Jim was crying as he pulled his pants back up to cover himself. He cried harder as they made him watch the unlucky person who had the name Jim had cried out. 

He resolved that he wouldn’t do that again. Especially not when it didn’t save him. Kodos rewarded the guard without even asking what he’d done. Jim wondered if he knew. He resoundedly did not care. The other guards were terribly interested, though. They wanted the extra rations that had been given to the guard who raped the boy that seemed to have drawn Kodos’ interest. The type of torture he endured changed. Not all of them could get turned on by his misery, but all of them managed to taunt him or hurt him with some other object. There was one female guard who made him touch her and somehow that was worse. She would give him alcohol if he could get her off, and anything that numbed him was more precious than his life at this point. 

Finally, when no one could break him like he had been the first time, Kodos himself arrived with Ania. Two guards sat on either side of the Governor as he sat the girl on his knee. Ania looked terrified as she saw Jim’s weak and battered form. 

“James, you once killed to protect this girl.” 

He knew where this was going. He knew, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. “Don’t,” he begged in a pathetic, weak voice. 

One of the guards slashed Ania’s face and she screamed and began to cry immediately. Jim winced and tried not to hear it. They wouldn’t kill her. There would be no bargaining chip if they killed her. 

They slashed her again and Jim tried to get up. “Give me the files,” he rasped hoarsely. “Give me the files.” 

There were things worse than death, and he wasn’t about to let any of them happen to Ania. 

“No files today,” Kodos informed him. “First, the choice I gave you on day one. The girl or the boy?” 

Jim shook his head, almost glad Ania was too distracted by her own pain to see him cry and break apart. It was an impossible choice, but Colin wasn’t right in front of him. “The boy,” Jim said miserably. 

And then Colin was right in front of him. 

“Colin French,” Governor Kodos said. “James here has chosen you to die so that more valued members of society might live.” 

“I’m sorry,” Jim sobbed. “Please don’t, please don’t…”

But it didn’t matter. They slashed Colin’s throat and Jim shook as the blood spray hit him. Literally and metaphorically, Jim was covered in blood. 

Every day, he picked a file at random and gave the name. It went on for another month before Starfleet finally got there. He knew, instinctively, that they had come too late to save him. Most of his physical injuries had healed, but the others never would. Jim had died when Ty sacrified himself, and everything since had just been one more nail in his coffin. 

He didn’t speak to any of them, didn’t respond. He wouldn’t eat, so they put an IV in him and he slowly put weight back on. Jim felt nothing, which was almost a blessing. The rest of the survivors were let go once they were out of danger. Many of the kids were held longer. All of them were forced to sign a non-disclosure agreement with the understanding that revealing anything beyond the official statement of events would result in charges of treason and possible execution. 

Various doctors and psychologists grilled him and tried to get him to process his trauma or even detail it for their reports, but Jim didn’t care. He didn’t care about anything. They could write whatever they fucking wanted. 

The closest he came to feeling anything was the guilt of not being able to feel glad or loving when his mother was finally allowed to pick him up. The guilt of wanting her to stop touching him when her relief at being able to hug him was so palpable. 

Jim was broken beyond repair. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So anyway, that's part one. I'm going to work on part three for a bit before getting to part two because i glossed over some things in the draft that need to be written properly (aka it needs actual editing in many, many places) so it won't go up in one day like this one. 
> 
> Please feel free to argue with me and say you'll take part two even with a cliffhanger because i will honestly probably listen. Like Jim struggles with in part one, i am not here to make choices for you about what you can and can't handle.


End file.
